Black Wolf: Tooth and Nail
by Kat Wylder
Summary: Three times Randi has been exiled and three times she has found a new life. Now she finds herself in a mercenary unit operated by a man she met on chance, with no where else to turn. She may have fled her past but time will tell if she is finally free.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Star Captain! Four more signatures on scope! I have a visual on a full lance of assault 'Mechs," cried Karlou.

"Stay calm!" Randi barked. "Do not lose sight of our objective."

"By Kerensky… Where are they coming from?!" cried Meena. The MechWarrior slammed on her jumpjets and landed only meters from an enemy _Marauder. _She blew a hole through the BattleMech's torso using her twin LBXs and cantered off to engage a new target.

"Meena, form on me! It is imperative that we protect the prototype," Randi ordered. "All units, on my mark, alpha strike my target!"

"But, Star Captain," said another Warrior, "we cannot engage the same target. The _Zellbriegen_ states that--"

"I _know _what it states, MechWarrior Davine! Now do as I say, or so help me, I will have your hide on my wall tomorrow!"

"Aff, Star Captain!" Davine replied.

"Three… two… _one!_ _Open fire!_"

Upon her order, every 'Mech in the star let loose its full weapons payload upon an _Atlas_ in the middle of the battlefield. The _Atlas_ stumbled back and fell to the ground, as everything from lasers and LBXs to an Artemis IV ripped through the deadly foe. On its way down, the giant humanoid machine caught the side of a nearby _Clint _and pulled it to the ground, as well.

"Next target!" Randi cried, as she lowered her crosshairs over an enemy _Dire Wolf._ "Davine, Meena, attack my target. Karlou, Ira, watch our six!"

Several cries of "Aff!" resounded over the comm.

Randi charged at the _Dire Wolf,_ throwing everything she had at it. The fearsome assault chassis was of Clan design, but its pilot was no Clansman.

Randi muttered several curses upon the freebirths who dared to try and steal the prototype from them. Their tactics had been nothing short of guerrilla warfare-- something she had not expected of a regular unit. She had seen Bandits who fought with more honor than these stravags of the InnerSphere.

"If they wish to fight like dogs, then they will die like dogs," Randi growled. She slammed on the throttle of her _Timber Wolf_ and ran full-tilt at the enemy lance-leader. She opened fire with all of her missiles and sent a fiery rain of LRMs down on the top of the 'Mech's sloping torso. It returned her fury with a volley of autocannon fire. Randi winced, as she heard the shells rip through the left side of _Nyx's_ torso. She had no time for these games.

Randi hit her jumpjets and rose up into the air. As soon as she was directly over the sluggish enemy assault 'Mech, she killed the fuel to her jumpjets and fell onto the _Dire Wolf_ with a metallic crash. As the _Dire Wolf_ began to sink to the ground, no doubt pilot-less after Randi's attack, she rose up on her jumpjets again and landed about 20 meters to the right.

"Star Captain!" cried Ira suddenly. "I--"

"Ira? …Ira, respond!" Randi glanced down at her radar scope. Ira's signature had disappeared from the screen. "Karlou, what happened?!" she demanded.

"Another lance ambushed us!" cried Karlou. "I managed to evade their fire. Ira was… He was killed."

Randi felt the heat of rage flowing through her every vein. "Echo Star… you have my permission to use melee tactics. Do whatever you must, just destroy them!" She took a deep breath of the hot, bloody air. "Kill _all_ these freebirth dogs!"

* * *

"Randi? Hey, wake up!" Fred hissed, as he jostled her shoulder. 

She jerked awake and clocked him in the jaw on reflex. Her eyes popped open an instant later, and her mouth jerked into a frantic shape. "I-I am sorry! I did not mean to--"

Fred rubbed his sore jaw and shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll just remember not to do that again…" he said. "Listen, we're going to land in about an hour."

The Clan ex-pat rubbed some sleep out of her eyes and looked around. "But.. I thought we were only halfway to get to Outreach."

"Who said anything about Outreach? We're landing on Solaris," he explained. "Look, I got in a little over my head the last few months with some of these contracts. I'm not in debt, but at the moment I don't have the funds to hire any more personnel or maintain more 'Mechs. I know you're probably not too happy about the games, but just think of it as one big training exercise with cash prizes. Besides, we wouldn't want to run into the Scimitars in Hiring Hall, would we?"

Randi's first impulse was to simply quit. _'Fighting in the Solaris games? This is what I was hoping to _avoid!' After a moment's thought, she sighed and nodded, realizing she would be stranded if she did not remain with Fred. "Very well. I have little choice, yes?"

"I'm not going to make you enter the competition," Fred said. "If you do enter, I'll handle the details and make sure your 'Mech gets repaired after each match. How's that?"

"Alright…"

"Hey, we shouldn't have any problems. It's the beginning of the season, so the arenas will be filled with green pilots. You could eat those kids for breakfast. Then we take our winnings, pick up some equipment and pilots on Outreach, and start taking contracts."

The plan seemed sound enough, but she still felt unsure. Once the dropship left, she would be stuck on Solaris with this man. Fernando Acosta seemed like a trustworthy soul, but so had Maro. Thinking about him again brought tears bubbling up under the surface. In truth, she wanted to cry but the lingering instincts from her first life refused to allow it.

_'I just wish I could have done something… I could not even find Jen.'_ She wondered if the rest of Scimitars ever found out who their real enemy was. Despite what they'd done, she found that she missed them. Now she had no idea what was going to become of her. Her intuition told her that Fred spoke the truth when he said that their stay on the gaming world was a temporary one. Logically, there was no way she could be sure of his plans. There was also a chance that some unforeseen event could trap them here. _'I just want to go home.'_

Fred sat down beside her. "Homesick?"

"How did you…? No, I do not have a home anymore," she replied, shaking her head. "When do the games start?"

"I've already entered for myself. Unfortunately, we're out of parts for your _Mad Cat_, so you'll have to take the old _Bushwhacker._ That's probably a better choice for the bloodpits, anyway."

"The what?"

* * *

"Okay…" Randi said aloud to no one, "this is… different. Different, but okay." She scanned the weapons at her disposal once more. An AC/10, two LRM-5s, two relatively worthless machine guns, and a large laser. It was not at all like _Nyx_, and piloting the beast reminded her vaguely of a Clan _Mad Dog_ for reasons she did not understand.

'_No, no._ Vulture,' she reminded herself. There were still a few minutes before the match began, and she found herself strangely nervous. She was not at all worried about the fight itself though she wasn't cocky, either. Something about being down in the bloodpit just made her feel cornered. She took a deep breath to calm herself and mentally repeated the information Fred had given her. _'I just have to make the kill, not do the damage. It seems so dishonorable, but he knows more about these fights than I do. I guess I have to take his word for it.'_

"Go get 'em, Randi!" Her comm crackled to life with Acosta's voice. "You'll do fine."

"Af-- I mean, thanks."

Her radio went silent and the gates raised. A moment later, the starting horn blared and the battle began.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Randi punched the throttle hard as soon as she could clear the gates. In a melee like this, the worst fate would be to get pinned down inside the starting area. The arena itself was a big, flat area totally devoid of foliage and surrounded by a thick square wall. The layout actually reminded her a lot of the Circle of Equals, which despite its name, could be any geometry. There was no real cover, but she could make do without it.

The 'Mech closest to her was an _Ostsol_, and it was not looking for a fight. As soon as she turned towards it, the heavy 'Mech started to move away in hopes of picking up a better target. It had five tons on her _Bushwhacker_, but it was an old and poorly-maintained unit.

_'A good place to start,' _she thought, catching wind of the green MechWarrior's fear.

The hunted BattleMech quickly realized that it was not going to escape.

"Hey, wait a sec!" said the pilot. "Let's buddy up for a little while, instead of beating on each other. We're both new to this, right?"

"I do not want or need your help," she growled in reply, as she lowered her crosshairs over the _Ostsol._

"Come on, it's--"

With a well-placed salvo of LRM-5s, Randi drew her first blood on Solaris.

The roundish 'Mech tried to evade the weapons, but only made the pathetic mistake of presenting its aft armor to the incoming missiles. Several large chunks burst from its back and landed near the feet of her _Bushwhacker_ as the _Ostsol_ teetered forward. The pilot frantically tried to correct the equilibrium, and brought the 'Mech swinging around to face her. Two fat red beams and two smaller lasers of similar color shot from various locations on its torso, softening the armor on the left torso of Randi's 'Mech.

She replied with her own large laser. She was a little surprised to see a thick green pike stab the _Ostsol_ instead of a red one, but did not let it snap her concentration. The heat in the cockpit spike unpleasantly and a little sweat began running down the sloping bridge of her nose, and she swiped it away before tickling the opposing 'Mech with her machine guns. While of little use in terms of damage, the rapid spray of bullets was a good means to keep the other pilot back while the heat dissipated and her weapons recycled. Tiny particles of armor and paint chips flew into the air along with the wasted shells. Interestingly, the old armor of the 65-tonner was a little more susceptible to machine gun fire than she would have thought. It was still little more than scratches, and the already toasty _Ostsol_ hit her with its two fresh medium lasers.

It bobbed and weaved a little, trying its best to move closer. She couldn't tell if this was a strategy or sheer foolishness, but her opponent was fast approaching the minimal effective distance of her long-range weaponry. Rather than try to push it back, however, she decided to keep up the machine gun fire and let it come. The seconds grew longer but she waited patiently and adjusted her crosshairs as finely as she could. Her previous attacks had all but stripped the armor from a portion of the center torso. What remained was cracked and thin, and highly vulnerable.

Now the rookie _Ostsol_ was inside the ineffective range for both her large laser and LRMs, but it was at a prime distance for her as-yet unfired AC/10. The big gun would take a good while to recycle, so she double checked her crosshairs one more time.

Randi chuckled a little bit at the seemingly oblivious pilot and squeezed the trigger. The rounds flew forward, the _Ostsol_ jerked back and a spray of shrapnel flew into the air, then rained back down on the body it came from. She moved closer and fired her large laser on the theory that at this range she could not possibly miss such a large target. Her thinking proved correct when a good ton of armor slid off the enemy's torso and onto the packed dirt below, but it did not dig into the hole her AC/10 had made.

If there had been any doubt in her mind that Fred's description of the pilots here was true, it quickly dissipated. The _Ostsol_ tried frantically to cope with the loss of weight so shortly after being punched by the autocannon, but couldn't manage the task. It swayed as if intoxicated, staggered back, and the crashed into the ground. It looked like a tortoise on its back and probably had just as much hope of getting up. There was a mechanically crunchy click from her left arm, signaling the AC/10's recycle. She buried another round in the big wound on the _Ostsol's_ center torso and then cantered off as it went up in a bright light. A horn sounded, signaling victory.

The surprising ease of the kill gave her a little more confidence. She felt less like a prisoner thrown into a pit full of lions and more like one of the big cats. It still wasn't exactly a savory position to be down in the bloodpits chewing on rookies, but it was better than nothing.

_'The more kills I make, the more money I win,'_ she reminded herself. _'And the more money I win, the faster we leave this filthy planet.'_ With this in mind as a driving purpose, she turned swiftly and trotted of to eat some more of the poor saps around her.

She passed the carcass of an InnerSphere _Puma_ and found the remaining 'Mechs locked in a vicious three-way battle. There was a limping _Kintaro_, a battered _Wolverine_, and a _Raider_ that looked to be in its death throes. While the battle amongst them had initially been evenly distributed, the _Kintaro_ and _Wolverine_ were now competing for the killing blow to the _Raider_. None of them paid any mind to Randi.

For a moment, she only watched. She had fought melee-style battle before, during her tenure with the Scimitars, but now she decided that it would be best to wait either until one of the 'Mechs broke away from the others or there was a death. As she looked more closely, though, the dying _Raider_ began to look more tempting. She followed it with her targeting reticule placed over it like a tattoo. The other two were doing a surprisingly poor job of actually killing the thing, and only kept making fresh cuts instead of exploiting the deep gouge on its side. A sharp _berries_ filled the cockpit, and she squeezed off both of her LRM-10s.

There was a big gush of everything imaginable from the _Raider's_ side, and most of it sprayed the _Kintaro_. Robbed of its chance to kill the _Raider_, the _Wolverine_ quickly turned on the limping 'Mech nearby. There was a vicious exchange of laser fire and SRMs, which seemed to hit the _Kintaro_ most heavily. Its limping slowed as the heat climbed and soon it was stopped altogether, with no more mobility than its torso-twist.

Randi swooped in and added her own lasers to the flurry tearing up the crippled 'Mech. The _Wolverine_ turned its autocannon on her, trying to defend the bleeding prey for itself. She fired her machine guns in return, but saved her own AC/10 for the _Kintaro's_ weakened hip. It went down and nearly crashed into the _Wolverine_, but a last-minute burst of jump jets saved the surviving 'Mech.

"_Baka! Are wa boku no kirru_--"

She tapped her comm off, unwilling to listen to the Draconis man's tirade, and retorted with her ER large laser. The _Wolverine_ danced with her, each of them exchanging rounds and laser fire. She was starting to take a real beating now that she was actually engaged with an opponent, rather than stealing kills, but her enemy had suffered worse. It had been in slightly better shape than the others to start and the pilot had some more skill, but that was not enough to save it. At first, it tried to get closer, but she continued to repel it. Foolishly, the man hit his jumpjets and rose up and away from her. He was now outside the range of the _Bushwhacker's_ AC/10 but by the same token, he had given up the use of his own autocannon. Randi immediately seized the opportunity, tired of playing with weak prey, and launched all of her missiles. The flurry of two full salvos knocked the _Wolverine_ about hard. She then drove her large laser into its gut. A bright light glowed from the center of the heavy 'Mech and tore it apart on its way down to the ground. Another siren sounded.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_'Four kills… These pilots are worse than sib-brats,'_ Randi thought as she moved her battered _Bushwhacker_ back through the gates. She could hardly feel proud of such a cheap victory. Only one of those kills had been truly earned-- the others were all made by sniping someone else's work. She sighed and shook her head, disgusted that she was reaping benefits she had hardly worked to achieve. Even as a mercenary, she had actually earned and worked for her pay.

Then again, she supposed that Solaris was the last place in the galaxy where the goal of life was to earn things. Here it was all about pleasing the crowd and putting on a good show. Just like a de-clawed tiger in an ancient three-ring circus, the "MechWarriors" here didn't have to be lethal or even dangerous so as long as they looked tough and played tricks for the masses.

She shook her head as she maneuvered her temporary steed into the hangar racks. _'Got to get out of here before I turn into one of those tigers…'_ Randi thought bitterly. She took off her neuro-helmet and sagged back in the command couch, emotionally drained more than anything else. _'I have fallen far enough, already.'_

With a heavy, tired sigh, she cracked open the cockpit hatch and started down the ladder of the _Bushwhacker_.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Fred cheered, as Randi climbed down to meet him.

Randi gave him a slightly sullen look, but nodded anyway. "Thanks…"

He smiled widely. "You did great! Now, didn't I tell ya that you could eat those kids for breakfast, hm?"

She nodded again. After a moment's pause, she dredged up something to say. "Oh. I forgot to ask earlier if you know of any place I could find lodging."

"Ah, I'm one step ahead of you, Miss," said Fred cheerfully. "I already rented out a couple of rooms for us at a flat not far from here."

"Can we go home, then?" she asked absently. Randi looked back at Fred and shook her head. "I mean, could you show me to the apartments. I… I am tired…"

"Sure thing. And don't worry, I speak 'tired' pretty fluently," he said as he motioned for her to follow him out of the hangar and into the street.

From where they stood, it was difficult to see the sky. So many buildings obstructed her view that it made the world seem rather small. The street was filled with people all moving like a school of mindless fish to their respective destinations. The whole city, while superficially familiar, was somehow the most alien thing Randi had ever encountered. It was dirty and close, and had a very mean aura about it. Everything radiated indifference at best and hostility at worst.

_'Because I am Clan,'_ she thought, looking around nervously. _'This was a stupid idea! Now I am going to be killed! I must stand out to them.'_ She backed up to move into the hangar again, but instead ran into a middle-aged man.

"Watch it!" he growled as he pushed past her.

She tried to move away from him, but only succeeded in running into several more passersby. "Sorry!" Randi yelped, as she tried desperately to separate herself from the amoebic mass of humanity. She suddenly found that the crowd was much larger and more tightly packed than she had previously thought. The greyish sky also seemed further away and the towering buildings leaned in almost like a cage. The street was too tight. The air was too thick. The crowd was starting to carry her away in its current. Worse yet, she had no idea where she was.

"Hey!"

Randi spun around quickly as a man's firm hand clamped down on her shoulder. Much to her surprise, it was Fred.

"S-sir…"

Her smiled a little and took hold of her arm to keep the crowd from pulling her away again. "Better be careful. It's easy to get lost," he said, as he navigated his way through the people with Randi in tow. "And there's no need to call me 'sir'."

"Okay." She felt rather silly for panicking now, and hoped Fred wouldn't turn back around until she stopped blushing at her own foolishness. It was bad enough he had to lead her by the arm like a child, even though she could see the necessity of it.

"Sorry about the location. …And the building. …And the… everything. Yeah. Sorry about that, but it's the best I could do on such short notice," he said apologetically as they approached a rather run-down apartment complex. The steps leading up to it were covered in graffiti and some manner of sludge. Randi didn't dare guess what the slime really was, or what some of the illegible graffiti said.

She tried to push through the crowd to move up by Fred's side. It was difficult to talk to him when she was a meter behind him. "I thought you planned to come to Solaris months ago."

"I did," he called back over his shoulder. "But when I planned that, I was by myself. I changed lodging when I hired you."

"…And you changed from a nicer portion of town, yes?" she asked, although she knew the answer.

"Well… Yeah, kinda. …Okay, a lot," he admitted. Even though she guess his answer, it did no make much sense. Before Randi had a chance to ask, he looked back over his shoulder and shrugged a little. "Couldn't leave my best and only employee all by her lonesome, could I?"

Randi looked at him curiously until she suddenly realized that they were out of the crowd and standing on the steps of the apartment complex. "Thanks," she murmured, as she walked inside ahead of him.

"You'll need your key. Your room is 112. Mine's 109."

She gave a quick nod as he tossed her a small key-card and then darted off down the hall without a word more. Unlike most everything else, the lock was fairly intuitive and with a quick flick of the card, she was inside before the tears started spilling down over her cheeks.

She slid down to the floor with her back up against the door and buried her face in her hands. "What is _wrong_ with me?!" she choked aloud. In spite of her tears, she jumped up and moved to the bed as footsteps echoed past the door. She was still unable to stop her sobbing, though, so she laid down and buried her face in one of the pillows. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to lay there sobbing like a whelp and feeling sorry for herself. All the same, she couldn't help it.

_'What happened to me?! What happened to my _life?!_ I used to be a Star Captain and now I'm here in this filthy, disgusting place fighting for sport and money against a bunch of freeborns who cannot shoot straight to save themselves! My lance tried to kill me. Jen tired to kill me. Those pirates tried to kill me. Maro got killed _for_ me. …And I still haven't fixed _Nyx!' She dug her fingers into her pillow and chided herself. _'And now I am using contractions!'_

Now, she just felt like screaming more than anything, but sobbing took too much energy. She could not remember the last time she cried like this. It was so undignified, un-Warriorlike, and unClanlike, that it made her feel even worse, which in turn made her cry more, which again made her feel worse.

It went on and on like that for what must have been a solid hour or even two. When she finally stopped sobbing and sniffling to look up at the window, the sky was completely dark. Randi sighed in disgust at herself and started wiping the tear stains from her cheeks.

"You freebirth…" she muttered as she sat up and stared into the mirror across from her. She turned away from her pathetic, disheveled reflection and walked over to the closet. For a moment, she was shocked to see that it was empty. She was about to tear up the room searching for her clothes when she remembered one important thing: she hadn't any.

Randi groaned and plopped down on the floor. Her entire wardrobe and all her personal possessions had been left behind when she made her escape from the Scimitars. All she had were the clothes she was wearing and a nightgown one of the dropship's female crew persons had been kind enough to give her. She groaned again and hoped that she would be able to buy some new clothes soon.

Just as she was about to crawl into bed again, there was a short rap at her door. Randi smoothed her hair quickly, swiped off any moisture that was still on her cheeks, and answered the door.

"Oh. Fred." She tried not to fidget, but she was still nervous and felt very self-conscious.

"I was gonna go grab a bite to eat, and I thought you might like to come. Neither of us have eaten all day."

Although her first instinct was to refuse, she really was hungry. She didn't want to stay in her room feeling sorry for herself, either. "Alright," she replied with a nod, as she stepped into the hall.

He smiled and started down the hall to the door. "So, what're you hungry for? Tacos? Sushi? Me, I could go with some pancakes."

"…Pancakes?" she repeated.

Fred chuckled a little. "What, two years in the InnerSphere and you've never had any?"

"No. I usually eat pretty bland food…" she said, as she walked along beside him.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, then. Pancakes it is! My treat!"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Mmm-mm! Smells great, huh?" Fred said as he sniffed the air wafting out of the kitchen.

Randi nodded as she looked around the diner. "Is this a place you eat often?"

"Yeah, they've got pretty good food. Plus it's cheap and sanitary, which is more than you can say for a lot of 'restaurants' on Solaris-- like that burger place a couple blocks over." He shuddered a little and closed his eyes. "Never eat there."

"I will remember that," Randi said. She didn't dare ask what was so terribly traumatizing about their food, or even guess. Instead, she occupied herself by looking around the room attentively, though she wasn't looking at anyone or anything in particular.

Even after the years she had spent around Spheroids, small talk was a difficult thing for her. As she spent more time around Fred, however, she began to realize that much of her social awkwardness wasn't due to insufficient time in the InnerSphere, but insufficient contact. She had put a great deal of effort into distancing herself from others so that no one would find out who she was. Since Fred already knew, she didn't have to prance around the edges of becoming a recluse as she had in the past. She was still a little nervous around him, but it was more out of uncertainty in how to regard him rather than any feeling of danger.

"Ooh! Here's our food!" he said excitedly, as he twisted around in his chair to look back at the waitress approaching them. He turned back around as the woman set their plates and glasses down. She also left with them a small pitcher of a thick, translucent brown liquid.

Randi looked at her coffee and then at the pitcher for comparison. "This… is not coffee," she said, sticking her tongue out a little in revulsion. The thick, oozy stuff looked like something one could find pooled in the alleys outside.

Fred chuckled. "No, it's maple syrup. You put it on your pancakes."

"Maple? Is that not a tree…?" she asked incredulously. Tree-flavored sludge sounded quite unappetizing.

"No, no. It comes from the trees. Here," he said, as he took the pitcher and waved it under her nose. "See? It's sweet." Fred pulled his plate back from the center of the table, then took his knife, nicked a slice off the butter stick and slathered it across the top of his pancakes, and topped it off with a drizzling of syrup.

When he set the pitcher back down, Randi decided to be a little braver about the food and dipped her finger into the syrup. It had a nasty, sticky texture, but she licked it off her finger anyway. Her eyes widened in surprise. It really _was_ tasty. She then poured just a little less than half the syrup onto her stack of pancakes, until the excess pooled on the plate.

"Whoa… You really like that, huh?" Fred chuckled as he cut a slice of his pancakes.

Randi was already halfway through chewing a big slice of hers. She nodded and cut another slice. "Yeah," she replied. "Much better than-- Er, it's better than rations." She nearly choked at her own carelessness. _'I nearly said _Clan _food!'_ she thought anxiously.

Fred took a sip of his coffee as he watched her. "Relax a little. All that stress is bad for ya."

She sighed and slumped back in her seat a little. "How can I be relaxed? There are people who want to kill me… Do you have any idea what that is like?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I do. But in any case, I am hereby ordering you to loosen up a little. See, if you stay stressed out, you'll wind up killing _yourself_ from heart problems."

Now that she thought about it, he was probably right. It was one thing to be alert, but the past few months she had been downright paranoid and fearful. "I will try," she consented, taking another bite of her pancakes. Randi easily cleaned her plate. She couldn't remember the last time she ate something with this much flavor-- or at least this much pleasant flavor. She made a mental note that pancakes could be moved to the category of "favorite foods".

As they were finishing their meal, the server came by and scooped up the plates, exchanging the dishes for a small sheet of paper. Fred snatched it up before she even got a good look at it and scribbled something across the note. He smiled a little and nodded.

"Like I said-- my treat." He glanced down at his watch and sighed. "Dang. I have to get ready for the match." He gave her a polite nod and stood. "I'll see you later."

Randi stared into her coffee for a moment as Fred walked to the door. _'He is the only person who does not want my head on a platter right now. I suppose I owe it to him to be a little friendlier,'_ she thought. _'Besides, I should familiarize myself with his tactics if I am to work with him.'_ She stood and followed him swiftly.

"Oh, hey. Decided to take off, too?" he asked, a little surprised to see her standing beside him so quickly.

She gave a hesitant nod, then asked a little nervously, "Can I… come watch the match?"

"Well, it's fine by me, but you don't have tickets to get a seat in the stands. You could always hang out with our techs, though. They have a holovid feed from the match so they can keep an eye on us. Just ask nicely, and I'm sure they'll let you sit in."

* * *

Randi shifted uncomfortably on top of the crate she had selected as a seat. One of the two technicians, a big man named Harrison, had offered to give up his seat on the somewhat worse-for-wear couch, but she declined. That would have left her sitting next to Ned, the other tech. She was highly opposed to sitting near either of them, or even talking to them for that matter. She wasn't sure how to deal with Spheroid techs at all, so she tried her best to simply avoid interacting with them. They seemed nice enough, but she didn't trust them and she didn't trust herself not to reveal who (or rather what) she was. 

Soon, however, the gates raised and the techs' attention was instantly zeroed in on the monitor.

"Yeah!" cheered Ned, as a _Shadow Cat_ appeared from the gates.

"Come on, Fred! Light 'em up!" Harrison exclaimed eagerly.

Randi soon found herself watching the 'Mech just as intently, and giving her employer a mental wish for good luck or whatever sort of metaphysical thing he should have.

The starting horn blared across the fuzzy speakers and immediately a cluster of missiles escaped from the boxy launchers on the _Cat's_ shoulders. They seemed to impact something that was near him, but off-camera. A moment later, the helmet-like head of a _Vindicator_ appeared on the edge of the screen. It darted out of the camera's view again, but not before letting off a bolt of PPC. The blue round struck Fred's _Cat_ hard in the shoulder, and a black, sooty scar appeared where the energy weapon had hit.

Randi gasped a little, knowing full well the kind of effect a hit like that had on a 'Mech's sensors. A cloud of black smog billowed up into focus from beneath the _Cat_ as it rose into the air, narrowly missing another shot from the off-screen _Vindicator_. Fred torso-twisted sharply and fired off his large laser. A spray of fluids and shrapnel burst from the direction of the enemy _Vindicator_. The helmet of the humanoid 'Mech swayed and bobbed across the lower portion of the screen as it reeled from the shock. Its initial attack was forceful, but Fred's reprisal showed the pilot for a novice. A large laser was hurtful, but a single shot was hardly enough to destabilize and experienced pilot.

While the _Vindicator_ tried to correct for its lost armor, Fred landed and ducked past it swiftly. The cameras kept his _Shadow Cat_ in full view and soon showed a nice image of the _Vindicator's_ aft side. For a moment, Randi thought she caught a glimpse of Fred through the plexiglass of his cockpit-- grinning like a child with a new toy. He rose up and back on his jets and unloaded all of his weapons into the flimsy armor, save for the large laser he had discharged. His enemy tottered and swayed, then turned to reply with another PPC shot. This hit was wasted, and Fred tagged his prey again with the recharged laser. Molten armor slid from the 'Mech's torso, leaving a sizeable area of paper-thin metal to hide the internal workings.

The now desperate _Vindicator_ drilled at Fred with its small laser, and then its medium, while it waited on the PPC. It only managed to tag him a couple times on the arm with grazing shots, while he chewed into the thin section of torso armor with his C-STRKs. The paper-like metal burst into shards and the helmet flew off the _Vindicator's_ shoulders just as its PPC hit Fred one last time on the edge of his shoulder.

"Yes!" Randi exclaimed, as the horn sounded a kill. She sat up a little more on the crate and watched closely as the _Shadow Cat_ cantered off to tangle with a roughed-up _Centurion_.


	5. Chapter 5

_As always, I love to hear everyone's comments and crits. Thanks so much for the many reviews you've all posted._

* * *

Chapter 5

"Looks like he's havin' a blast, huh?" said Harrison. "No idea why Fred never goes on to the Championships…"

That piqued Randi's curiosity enough to draw her attention away from the holovid for a moment. "Does he fail to qualify in the preliminaries?" she asked.

The techs both laughed. "No, no," Ned replied. "I'm sure he could qualify. But he never plays the qualifying rounds. I guess he doesn't want to fight in the Championships or something, but I can't imagine why."

_'That is strange,'_ she thought to herself. _'The Championships offer a lot of money, as well as the fame and all that comes with it. Maybe he feels insecure about his skill. No, if he felt that way, he would be someone's employee, instead of an employer.'_

A large explosion rocked the screen and flames ate up most of the view. For a moment, Fred's _Shadow Cat_ disappeared in the smoke and the _Centurion_ he had been fighting emerged in front of the camera. The humanoid chassis lit off its lasers, slicing through the smoke, and illuminating the plumes a bright, evil red. The _Cat_ stumbled back a bit, but swiveled its torso around quickly and brought its guns to bear on the _Centurion's_ midsection. Some of the enemy 'Mech's guts sprayed forth and nicked Fred in the side. He lanced the _Centurion_ again with his laser, and then dug into the wound with his C-STRKs.

Bleeding out machinery, the _Centurion_ took to desperate action and returned fire with its LRM-15s. The range between its missile racks and Fred's 'Mech was far too small, however. The missiles arced and soared right over the _Shadow Cat's_ canopy and out of frame. A moment later, they reappeared on-screen, flailing wildly to hit their target and crashed past the Cat into the ground. Dirt and dust sprayed up, obscuring the view once more, when a single lucky warhead ripped into Fred's thin rear armor. The unexpected force pushed him forward like a battering ram, straight into the _Centurion_. There was no time for him to correct; as soon as he felt himself falling, he was far past the point of return. A sickening, brain-piercing screech spilled out the speakers. One of them sparked and popped, and Ned immediately jumped up to turn it off.

Randi just gasped as she watched helplessly. The _Cat_ and _Centurion_ had gotten their guns tangled, and each was dragging the other to the ground. It could have been some video feed error, but as the tumbled into the dirt, everything seemed to go in slow motion. Before the big mass of conjoined metal hit, the other players immediately tried to seize the moment. It was splendid chance for an arena filled with rookies who couldn't his something as huge as a 'Mech with something as small as a laser. There it was-- two battered 'Mechs immobilized on the ground and totally defenseless. Just taking out one might be enough to rip apart the other, giving an easy two kills.

_'Get up, get up!'_ Randi wished, clenching her fists.

Poorly-aimed laser fire ripped armor from Fred's 'Mech, and a blast of machine gun fire left a string of pockmarks along its side.

"Fred! Are you alright?!" asked Harrison frantically, as he hit the comm.

"Yeah, sure," Fred grunted in reply. His voice was static-ridden on the comm; he was probably going to lose his radio soon. "Like I'm gonna let these kiddies make a kill out of me."

The _Shadow Cat_ suddenly lurched back, pulling the KO'd _Centurion_ a few meters off the ground. The other 'Mechs spit more machine gun fire, but Fred just ignored it. Despite the danger, he blasted his C-STRKs into the _Centurion_, trying to blow enough of it apart to disentangle himself. Chunks of hot metal flew past the camera, and a few silvery beads of ferro-fibrous settled on the lens.

"Dangit…" muttered Ned. "That'll take forever to scrape off."

"Be quiet," Randi hissed, watching the screen intently.

The burst of missiles seemed to lessen the hold, but he was still not free. The _Shadow Cat's_ bird-like knees bent and it leaned back hard. The moment he had pulled back as far as he could, Fred twisted his torso sharply and slammed down his jumpjets. For a moment, the only effect was a big, amorphous cloud of reactor exhaust billowing out of the jets. He tapped it again in short bursts, moving his _Cat's_ feet to paw away from the other 'Mech and was finally rewarded with a loud, metallic _snrrak_ as the _Centurion's_ limb snapped clean from its body.

Harrison, Ned, and Randi all cheered as if on cue, while Fred made use of his sturdy _Cat's_ speed, and ducked behind a mound of dirt. Two 'Mechs pursued him, but as the camera flew past them, the loud blaring of a horn echoed through the speakers. Fred hadn't fired, however, so there had to be another 'Mech out there. It was now down to the final three.

"How ya holdin' up, Fred?" asked Ned.

"I've had better days, but I think I'm still good for this match. The _Raider_ pilot is slightly less of a novice than the others, but I've get him taken care of."

"Yes, sir."

Harrison wrinkled his brow a little. "How's he gonna 'take care of' that _Raider_? Is he even watching his armor levels? He blew off a good fourth of his own left torso with those missiles."

Fred began to move again, creeping slowly around the packed earth mound like an actual cat in his 'Mech. Every so often, he would crouch, then turn a little, then move again. It looked like the match was going to turn into one long waiting game, but suddenly, Fred hit his jets and raced over the top of the mound, stabbing an off-camera target with his lasers.

Something exploded, and a the horn signaled a kill. Then the _Raider's_ lasers entered the fray. There were just two 'Mechs left, and Fred had already proclaimed himself the winner. Randi was at first doubtful, and even a little contemptuous of her superior's assessment. Assuming a win when the fight was still underway seemed quite arrogant. Despite her Clan background, she never liked to be haughty on that point. Conceit in a battle was what got good soldiers killed, and it reminded her far too much of Jamar's attitude.

The _Shadow Cat_ trotted backwards a bit and pumped its lasers fiercely, as the _Raider_ limped into view. It was no wonder he felt the match sealed. The sturdy little _Shadow Cat_ was a versatile and very maneuverable design, and there was not a chance that the _Raider_ could more than scratch its paint, now. No matter which way it turned, Fred kept waltzing out of its line of fire and peppering it with green strands of laser fire. Armor leaked down its guns, freezing into little metal stalactites. A small fireball burst from the _Raider's_ leg as the appendage buckled beneath it. The _Raider_ crashed into the dirt mound, and the horn sounded one more time.

"Yes!" Ned and Harrison chorused. The two men didn't celebrate long, however. They immediately darted off toward the door to see just what kind of shape the _Shadow Cat_ and its pilot were in. Randi followed some ways behind, as the hangar doors groaned open and the _Cat_ tramped inside with a light, tenderfoot stride. It came to a halt in the repair racks, and the cockpit popped open part way. Steam billowed out, and Fred clambered out onto the ladder.

"Hey, nice run, Fred!" Ned called.

"Thanks, guys." He looked down at Randi as he descended and grinned. "Enjoy the show?"

"I was…concerned for a few moments," she said.

"Don't worry about me," he said, as he dropped down the floor and wiped the cascade of sweat from his brow. "Shower time. I'll be back in about ten minutes. Anyone want to grab something to eat later?"

Harrison shook his head and gathered up his tools, as he patted the _Shadow Cat's_ toe. "You have fun, Fred. I got a date with this little lady."

"Some other time," said Ned. "I gotta stop in and see a few of my buddies."

"How about you Randi?"

"Well…"


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Aw, come on, Randi. You'll like it, I promise."

Randi bit her lip and gave Fred and incredulous look, as she followed him out of the hangar. "I do not like crowds… Bars have crowds."

"Not this one," he replied. "The '_Flea's_ Hideout' is almost always sparsely attended."

She quirked and eyebrow. "With a name like that, I can see why."

"Come on, just give it a chance. They've got good food. And karaoke, too."

"Carry-whatty? Huh?"

Fred grinned. "Come with me, and you'll find out. It's fun!"

"Well," she replied slowly, shifting a little, "okay… I guess… it couldn't hurt."

"Yay!" He beamed her a smile, hooked his arm around hers, and spun her around once before letting go. "No more work and no more 'Mechs! Time to celebrate!" he exclaimed as he walked off down the street.

Randi stumbled a little and then took off after him. "Wait!" she gasped. She didn't want to lose sight of Fred for an instant, for fear of getting lost. This city was so unfamiliar, and everything had a very different sameness to it, that made things hard to navigate.

Fred stopped just a half block down and turned, as she ran up to him. "What's the matter?"

"I do not know where this bar is. I do not-- I, er, am…unfamiliar with this neighborhood. Still."

"No worries," he said, turning her. "We're right here."

"Oh," Randi muttered, blushing. She looked up at the bright, neon bar sign. It depicted the rough outlines of an old FLE-2 and the bar's name.

As she followed Fred inside, she was surprised to find that the interior of the bar was rather well-maintained. It looked as though the building was quite old, and getting worn, but not for lack of upkeep. Aside from the obligatory mud tramped into the doorway, and tiny volcanoes smouldering in the ashtrays, it was nice. The walls were a simple red brick, mostly covered with framed schematics, blueprints, and photographs of various battle equipment. To her left, she spotted a large photo of a _Flea_ bursting through the vegetation of the Cathay Jungle arena, in attempts to escape from a firing _Daishi_. Further down the way, was a yellowed old _Champion_ diagram, followed by a _Trebuchet_, then a _Centurion_. There were also Aerospace fighters, choppers, tanks, and even a couple dropships lining the walls.

"See some old friends?" Fred asked with a chuckle, as she stared at the machines.

Randi snapped back to reality. "Oh. I was just…looking. I actually do recognize a lot of these. Probably because so many of them are old chassis."

"Wouldn't that make them more obscure to you?"

"No," she replied. "We-- I mean, _they_ have refits of most of these."

Fred arched his eyebrows a little. "Interesting." He looked over to his right and scanned the seating. "Hey, there's a good table."

She tore herself away from the schematics and followed him to one of the booths. Fred slid into one side as if it were his own personal chair, and leaned into the cushiony back. Randi slid in across from him a little more tentatively, and looked around. Just as she was about to ask what they served, her fingers brushed the slightly smudgy laminated cover of a menu. The fold-out menu was blue with a white grid and a lightly sketched drawing of a _Flea_-- a blueprint, in keeping with the theme. She chuckled a little and opened the menu. Her eyebrows immediately shot upwards and the corners of her mouth turned down.

"Something wrong…?" Fred asked, leaning over the table a little to see just what was so offensive.

"I have no idea what any of this is…"

"Tacos are good."

"Tacos?"

"Yeah, tacos. Hamburgers, too--they're made of beef."

Randi laid her menu flat on the table and frowned more deeply. "That is not funny."

Fred looked up from the menu as well, and met her eyes with a confused expression.

"I know what ham is, okay. I am not _that_ ignorant of Spheroid foods…"

"Well, uh, I hate to break it to ya… but you kind of are. See, it's called a _ham_burger, but it's _made_ of beef. Crazy, but true. Heck, even I think they oughtta call it a "beefburger'. But in any case, it's good eats."

"Eats?" She shook her head a little and picked up the menu again. "Alright then, ham…burger… it is."

"Y'all ready t' order?" asked a waitress sweetly.

Randi jumped, startled, and turned around to face the woman. "Uh.. Y-yes, please. Water and one hamburger."

"I'll have a beer and a hot dog."

The woman nodded, jotted down their orders, and left for the kitchen.

Immediately, Randi turned back around with a rather horrified look on her face. "At the risk of sounding ignorant again…you are eating a _what?!_"

"Hot dog. Another improperly named food. I think in some places, it's called a 'weiner', but man, that sounds kind of… _wrong_. Anyway, it's pretty good. Mostly pork. I think."

That hardly filled her with confidence. As horrid-tasting as Clan rations were, she preferred that any day to foods with such ambiguous names and ingredients. At least she knew what was in an MRE. She shifted a little in her seat, unaccustomed to the springiness, and watched as more people began to enter the bar. It was hardly a crowd, but it did seem more full than she had imagined.

"Dinner crowd?" she asked.

"Nah. Karaoke night." Fred chuckled and pointed to a raised, flat area up against the back wall. "That's the stage, there. See that machine sitting on it? It plays the background music to popular songs and displays the lyrics on the holovid screens. All you do is take the mic and sing, so it's your voice to someone else's song. It's pretty fun, actually."

"Fun I think I will skip," she murmured, sinking back into the booth a little.

As the other seats began to fill, the waitress returned and deposited their food on the table. "Just holler if y'all need ana'thing," she said with a nod. "Enjoy your supper."

Fred popped open his beer while Randi took a hesitant bite of her hamburger. "Hm. …Not bad, actually. It is a little on the greasy side, though."

"Almost everything they serve in this town is greasy. Sushi's about the only thing that isn't, and believe you me, that is one food you never want to buy from a dive like this. Get it some place upscale if you have a real craving for it."

"More advice to remember."

"Darn right," he replied, as he took a swig of his beer. Fred tapped the bottle lightly against Randi's glass of water. "What, nothing for you?"

"I do not know what any of this alcohol is. And they have no fusionnaires…"

"Oh, so you _do_ drink." He grinned.

"Yes, and I can probably drink more than you." Randi smirked a little.

"Well, missy, why don't we just see about that."

"Very well. The loser 'foots the bill', as you say?" She shrugged and chuckled lightly. "This should be easy enough."

Fred quickly ordered a few more beers and slid one across the table to Randi. She took the frosty beer bottle and took a sip to test the flavor. It was terrible, and not at all like a fusionnaire or anything else she had intentionally consumed before. "Bleck," she muttered, and choked down half the bottle's contents.

By this time, Fred was already working on his second bottle of beer. "Try to keep up," he said with a chuckle.

Randi just smiled and proceeded to finish off her drink.

As the karaoke got underway and cigarette smoke and the patrons' chatter thickened the air, Randi felt herself getting a little light headed. She shrugged it off, though. After two and a half beers, she was still behind Fred, but she was not about to give up. She scratched her head a little as she looked down at her bottle. For a moment, she couldn't remember why she was drinking this stuff, but then it came back to her.

Suddenly, Fred, (now on his third bottle), smacked his hand flat down on the table. "Ah! I almost fergot."

"Huhh?"

"It's the furst of April," he slurred a little. "Today marks the 1,151st anniversary of the Great Breakfust Battle."

"The Great what how?" Randi asked, puzzled.

Fred crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. "Yeah, yeah. One of tha best battles in history. Obscure, though. But I got it _memorized_. Ya see, in 1917, they didn't _have_ parachutes-- not yet. An' one day, April 1st --jusht like today-- there was an air raid on a Britush base. All the pilots were just having breakfast, and they didn't have time at get ready. So they hopped into their planes with their breakfast, but had no ammo. Did that stop them, though? No siree, it did _not!_" he exclaimed, pounding his fist on the table. "The Brits took off to fight the enemy raiders, and when they got close enough, they poured their _coffee_ on the enemy pilot. Hot, black coffeee, too-- no sugar. And if they got shot down, they'd stitch their pancakes together to use as a parachute! Some of 'em smacked the enemy pilots with sausages, too, or threw their scrambled eggs at 'em. It was a long and bitter fight-- cuz their coffee didn't have any _sugar_. But they won. And that's why all pilots have coffee and pan-cakez… fer brekfust."

Randi leaned back in her seat and started to laugh-- no, giggle. At first, she didn't realize that she was the one laughing, but once she did, it just made her laugh more. It actually hurt her sides a little bit to giggle like this. By now, she had completely forgotten about the contest and the rest of her beer. She stood up dizzily, dug into her pocket, and deposited what looked to be the correct payment onto the table.

"I have… a headache," she giggled, as she plopped down into the seat beside him. "Pass me another beer?"

"Shuuure," Fred mumbled, as he miraculously managed to pass her the bottle without dropping it. Once the liquor transaction was complete, he looked over at her and nodded. "Hey, have I ever tol' juu… tol' you, yur a beautiful man? Cuz you are," he said, as he leaned towards her.

"Hey, wait minute," Randi said, giggling even more. "You… Are you trying to kiss me?"

"I dunno. Am I?"

"I think you are."

"Maybe."

"But I'm not a man."

"What? Of course yer not. Yer a _gurrl_."

"You said I was a beautiful man."

"Yeah, beautiful _wo-_man. Womans bein' the curvy type. That kind. Got it?"

Randi smiled, still giggling like a child, and nodded. "I got it."

* * *

_Things can't be dark and gloomy all the time. Besides, it's April Fool's Day, which means that _"OneHellcat"_ (my partnet in crime for this fic) and I are obligated to do something a little silly. I hope everyone can at least get a chuckle out of this._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Hmnnn," Randi murmured, as she shifted and opened her eyes a little in the darkness. A little bit of soft, red-orange light filtered through the slits of the window blinds and onto her face. It wasn't very bright, but it was painful nonetheless. She squinted and turned back towards the darkness, when she groggily realized there was something heavy and warm leaned up against her shoulder. She grunted again and curled her shoulder inwards to pull away from the thing.

"Whuh…?" mumbled a male voice.

Randi whipped around as a man's half-naked silhouette sat up in the darkness beside her, holding his head.

"Aaah!" she yelped. Randi immediately slugged him in the jaw, sending herself backwards off the couch.

"Ow! My nose! Ow, loud noises!" he whimpered clapping his hands over his ears.

Randi's eyes widened as she propped herself up on her elbows and peered up at him. "…Fred?!"

"Gyah! Again with the yelling," he muttered, shaking his head. "What's wrong?"

"Wh-why are you… Why are you in your boxers?!" She sat up and looked herself over quickly, then heaved a sigh of relief upon discovering she was in the same clothes she had been wearing the night before.

Fred arched his eyebrows and took her hand to help her up. "I _always_ sleep in my boxers. I don't know if that's much reassurance, but…"

"So… we-- er, I-- I mean… Nothing…happened, right?" Randi asked, as she stood.

"As many beers as I must've had, I'm surprised I had enough working brain cells to take off my shirt, much less do anything else. And now, because this is awkward enough, I'm gonna go find my pants." He walked over to his closet quickly and began riffling through it. "You can, uh, help yourself to some coffee…"

Randi nodded and slid her fingers through her hair to straighten it out as she walked over to the counter. It was lined with a few glasses, a couple half-full boxes of cereal, and the coffee Fred had suggested-- black, no sugar. She grabbed a glass off the counter and poured the now cold, tar-colored liquid from the pot. It really was quite bitter, but all-in-all, it wasn't bad. She did decide, however, that hot coffee was preferable.

A few moments later, Fred returned from his little quest wearing the jeans he'd been looking for as well as a tee-shirt. He yawned tiredly and poured a cup of coffee for himself. He took a deep draught, wrinkling his nose a little, and then turned to Randi.

"I… I'd like to apologize for all this," he said, rubbing his neck anxiously. "I'll admit, I have been drunk before. …But I've never woken up next to anyone in my boxers. Really, I should've just called it quits at two beers."

She shook her head and stared into her empty glass. "It is not your fault. I was drinking, too." Randi turned and gave him a half-hearted smile, in spite of the throbbing headache she had. "It seemed like a good idea at the time, yes?"

He nodded, looking a little unsure and still extremely embarrassed. "So, uh…"

"We never speak of this again?"

"Works for me." Fred yawned and rubbed his reddened eyes again, as he walked over to one of the cupboards. "I know I have some aspirin around here somewhere..."

"When's-- _when is_ the next match?"

Fred shrugged as he pawed through the cupboard. "Three days. At least, it is if today is Saturday. Good thing, too."

"Yeah. I think I am going to go home and sleep for about twelve hours. See you tomorrow," she said, walking out the door quietly. _'That really was a stupid idea,'_ she thought, as she walked down the hall. _'If I was not so competitive sometimes… I really hope this has not damaged anything. Without Fred, I really have no place to go.'_

* * *

The next day was much more pleasant for Randi. Sleep and the absence of a headache was probably the biggest factor contributing to that. She still didn't like Solaris, and she still felt awkward about Friday's little incident. For once, however, she decided it was best not to worry about things. What happened happened, and all should could do now was try not to repeat it in the future. 

_'I did enjoy the dinner, though,'_ she thought optimistically, as she headed out the door of the apartment building with a piece of toast in her mouth and her hands busy fidgeting with the zipper on her jacket. Finally she got it unstuck and took the bread in her hand. The street was as busy and packed as ever, but she had begun to learn how to navigate the crowd. She pushed and shoved and wormed her way past the other people just the way they shouldered her aside, and soon made it off the grimy street into the hangar.

Surprisingly, no one was there.

"Fred?" she called, unsure. There was no reply. _'Maybe he is just a little late,'_ she thought, trying to control her paranoia.

"No, but I'd be happy to substitute," said a man, as he emerged from the foot of the _Shadow Cat_. He turned and stroked his hand over its mud-caked toe and chuckled. "A beautiful machine. Fred really should take better care of his possessions, shouldn't he?"

Randi's first impulse was to back away, but instead she just gave him an indifferent look and remained where she was. "I will tell him you stopped by, sir."

"Oh, no need. I plan on waiting," he replied smoothly, as he walked over and parked himself in the nearest chair.

Just as Randi was about to give the uninvited guest a sharp word, the side door screeched open, grating metal on metal despite the sludgy oil that coated its hinges.

"Hey, Randi," chirruped Fred, as he walked inside with his arms full of books. "How's it--" The smiled melted right off his face and the books nearly melted through his arms the moment he saw the man sitting in his chair.

"Howdy, Fred."

"Howdy, yerself," he growled in reply, as he dropped his books hastily on the nearest flat surface. "What do you want, Prewitt?"

"Just thought I'd swing by and see how you're doing. Looks like you've got a pretty sweet set-up from the looks of things," Prewitt mused, as he glanced over at Randi.

"Again… whaddya want?"

Prewitt stood and stuffed his hand down into his jacket casually. "Well, now that you mention it, there is one little thing… I thought a challenge might be in order." With that, he pulled a photograph out of his pocket and handed it to Fred. "Your-- I mean, _my_ _Hellhound_, for your little lady."

"The _Cat_, huh?" he chuckled smugly, as he accepted the photo. "Marcus, you couldn't fight your way out of a paper bag someti--"

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, Fredo?"

Fred's eyes widened and his cheeks turned a little red as he looked at the image. "How did you…?" He shook his head, and calmly crumpled it up into a ball. He tossed it deftly and hit Prewitt squarely in the middle of the forehead. "You know what? _Screw you, Marcus._"

"I'd think twice about this challenge, if I were you."

"Thought about it. Couldn't care less," Fred replied with a wave of his hand. He motioned to Randi and started out the hangar door. "Now get out of my hangar." He gave a grunt of indifference as he scooped up his books and walked off into the other room.

Prewitt blew a kiss to Randi as soon as Fred's back was turned and then casually sauntered out the door with his hands stuffed down in his pockets. She stiffened a little and watched him carefully as he left. Already she had an intense dislike of the man, even though she wasn't quite sure why. He hadn't specifically _said_ anything rude or mean, but all the same she got the distinct impression that he was jerk. It seemed that Prewitt would have to be to get such an angry reaction out of someone so easygoing as Fred.

Curiosity over the argument drew her attention to the crumpled photo on the floor. Against what might have been her better judgement, she picked it up and unfolded it gently. She felt her cheeks and ears turn warm, as she stared at it half in shock and half in embarassment.

_'Was I really that drunk?'_ she thought as she looked down at her own image sitting in the restaurant, kissing Fred. It was nothing deeply passionate and it was impossible to tell who kissed who, but neither of them looked unhappy about it. She crumpled the photo back up and tossed it in the trash.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Fred...?" Randi called hesitantly as he poked her head in the door.

Fred turned around swiftly, clearly startled by her presence. He had a BLT stuffed halfway into his mouth and his eyes were wide and his face nearly stricken, like a kid caught drawing on mom's favorite coffee table. Recovering a little, he choked down the part of the sandwich that was in his mouth and cleared his throat.

"Yeeesss...?" he asked, drawing out the monosyllable, as he blushed and swatted the bread crumbs out of his goatee awkwardly.

Randi raised an eyebrow. "I just... wanted to ask you about something. Since you are busy, it can wait..."

"Eh, no, no. Just... got a little carried away with this _project_," he muttered, sliding a piece of paper under a folder.

"Battle plans?"

He looked down at his desk a little guiltily. "Sorta..." Fred pulled the paper back out and handed it to Randi. "I'm plotting Marcus Prewitt's_ demise_."

She gave him a blank look but accepted the paper nonetheless. "His...demise, sir?" She frowned a little as she tried to decipher the scrawling short-hand notes and messy diagrams. After a moments study, she paused and looked back at him. "You plan to defeat Prewitt with... marmalade?"

"What? No!" he said, taking the "plans" back. "That's also my grocery list. I'm out of marmalade."

She nodded and took a chair. Although she had seen his skill, it was a little hard to take Fred seriously at times. Perhaps that was the reason she didn't feel threatened by him, as she did with most people. "So, you have some sort of rivalry with this man? Er, I mean-- never mind. That is probably none of my business..."

"Bah, it's no secret," he muttered, taking another bit of his sandwich. "Marcus is just a jerk and a bully. You heard his little crack about a _Hellhound_, right? He's talking about _my 'Mech!_ He cheated me out of it!"

Randi gave him a confused look. "Through some gamble, yes?"

Fred shook his head. "It was hardly what I'd call a gamble. I knew I could beat him. I would have, too, if he hadn't _sabotaged_ my 'Mech the night before the match. When I called him on it, he just laughed and pulled a gun on me."

"Then you were forced to give him your 'Mech?"

"Yeah. So, I stole his _Shadow Cat_."

Her eyes widened to nearly the same size Fred's had been a few minutes ago. "You...stole...Marcus Prewitt's 'Mech."

"It wasn't that hard. I mean, chain link fencing doesn't stand much of a chance against a good plasma torch," he said matter-of-factly. "If he'd won the match fair an' square, I would've handed _Beowulf_ right over and never said a word more. I can be a graceful loser if I want to, but I won't put up with getting cheated."

Randi curled her fingers and rested her chin on her fist, contemplating this. Initially, Fred's actions seemed very near, if not inside, the realm of bandits. That didn't fit him, though.

_'He seems like a good person... And his code of honor might be different from mine, but he _does _have one...'_ she thought. _'I suppose I can hardly blame him for responding like that. The Clans feel no obligation to protocol once it has been broken by another party.'_

It was not at all fair to judge him on that point, she realized, when she had taken similar action in similar situations. Maybe he little choice in the matter, anyway. She looked back up at him, intending to pursue her original topic.

"So, uh... Fred...?"

"Ya huh?" he asked, slicing his attention between her and a check book quickly.

Randi hesitated, and in that moment, lost her nerve. She could be fearless in battle but relationships of any kind—especially those involving Spheroids—made her very uncomfortable. Rather than inquiring about the photograph or bringing up the events of Friday night, she changed her mind and pursued a different course. "How...do you intend to get your 'Mech back?" Then to herself, she thought, _'Maybe if I just act like nothing happened, then things be fine.'_

Fred tugged at his goatee a bit and then suddenly looked over at Randi with a devious grin. "You know... I think I have a plan for that..."

She shrank back, giving him a suspicious look that edged on a glare. "I refuse to be bait for any and all plans, now and until the day I die."

He chuckled and propped his feet up on the desk as he leaned back. "Oh, no. You don't have to do anything at all. You just gave me a really good idea. Heh, Marcus is finally gonna get what's comin' to him."

* * *

"If it isn't my favorite opponent. 'Ello, Fredo. I see you finally got up the nerve to face me one-on-one. Or did your lady friend talk you into it?" Prewitt taunted.

Fred glared at the radio as he piloted the _Shadow Cat_ into the empty arena. Only half of the original obstacles were still standing, and most of the wall had crumbled from weapons' fire, 'Mechs blundering into it, and of course, time. What was left of the concrete wall was covered in graffiti to about a two-meter line along its circumference. Wild colors, lewd slogans in multiple languages, tags, and various athletes' names and House insignias covered whatever the vandals could reach. A shady place from its start, the now abandoned bloodpit had become one of Marcus Prewitt's favorite haunts. It was, after all, a good place to shake down competitors and hold duels.

"Give it a rest, Marcus. What is this, grade school?" Fred shot back. "I thought we were here for a _fight_."

"Oh, better be careful what you wish for. Now, where's the _trophy_?"

Fred twisted right to see the hunched, stalking silhouette of _Hellhound_ creeping over the rubble. It had gotten a full repaint since he last saw it, erasing his own insignia for Prewitt's, but the 50-ton Clan brawler looked as mean as ever. The guns clicked back and a couple of huge round popped back and crashed to the ground. He chuckled and strafed around it with a quick, darting gait.

Prewitt might have a slightly bigger 'Mech, but this time it was Fred who had the advantage. He punched the comm again and smiled broadly. "You're lookin' at her."

"What?" sputtered Prewitt. "What're you—"

"You said you wanted to wager for my 'little lady', well, this is it. You know, I do so like this _Shadow Cat_, Marcus. She's a good 'Mech."

"You idiot! That is _not_ what I meant!"

Fred muted the comm while he laughed, then picked it up again. "Oh, it isn't? Well, shucks and darn. You should have been more specific."

He was answered with a fierce bark of Clan autocannon fire. The explosive rounds ripped through the side of his _Cat's_ arm, impacting the eclectic wall on the other side. He reeled back under the force, the torso spinning a little to the left from the blow. As soon as he caught his balance, he punched the throttle and strafed his old 'Mech.

"I want the _girl!_" Prewitt barked angrily as he gave chase.

Fred laughed again as he lit his SRMs into the side of the 50-tonner. "Well, I'll tell her you're interested, but I doubt you're her type."

"That's it! I'm gonna bury you so deep you'll be lucky to look up and see the floor of Hell!" the other man fumed. He darted forward, his 'Mech moving low and fast like a hound on the hunt. As soon as he was in range, he drilled into the center torso of the _Shadow Cat_ with his autocannon. As shrapnel sprayed into the air, he agitated the wound with his lasers.

Fred stumbled back, but held his ground with his own lasers and sliced into the _'Hound's_ side. "Y'know, I'm getting a little tired of this," he yawned as he danced back and forth past Prewitt's fire. "Let's just get to the good part. Power down and get out of the cockpit, Marcus. If you go quietly, we won't have any problems."

The enraged _Hellhound_ pilot tried to keep a bead on Fred as the lighter, swifter _Shadow Cat_ kept skipping out of his crosshairs. Fred slammed down on his jumpjets and rose into the air. The _Shadow Cat's_ legs drew up to the torso, making the hulking 45-tons of metal as compact as a boxy OmniMech could be.

Prewitt turned a hard right, scraping the _Hellhound's_ shoulder on a hunk of concrete. A big chunk of the fallen building crashed to the dusty floor of the arena, sending up a cloud of hazy dirt. Fred's lasers pierced the screen of particles and cored out a nice hold in the side torso of his antagonist. The _Hound_ whipped around to face him and drilled of two rounds laser fire in reply. Fred tapped his jets again and landed on Prewitt's right, blocking the path that the man was pursuing. Prewitt, in efforts to back away far enough to use his weapons, summarily crashed into another wall. He jerked his 'Mech away hard and kicked down the concrete slab jutting out of the ground, then hurdled it. Fred pursued, skittering back and forth across Prewitt's path and just outside his cross hairs.

Fred laughed as he maneuvered within touching distance of the _Hellhound_ and hit his jumpjets. A plume of fire and smoke burst from the nozzles, but he kept a light touch on the gauge, so that his 'Mech never left the ground by more than a few meters. As the smog continued to pour out of the _Shadow Cat's_ jump nozzles, the thick, opaque smoke began to adhere to the plexiglass canopy of the _Hellhound_. Fred seized his advantage and pulled back to hammer away on Prewitt at his leisure.

Angry, and now hardly able to see, Prewitt turned and knocked off an alpha strike, goring Fred's torso. "You don't know what you're doing, Acosta! That Clanner gal is playing you! She's a freakin'—"

A female voice oozed over the comm. "Marcus, when are you going to learn to stay in your league?" The woman scoffed at him with a light, catty laugh. "Silly boys..."

_"Enemy detected,"_ reported Fred's computer. In the same instant, a pair of PPCs cleaved through the armor of his _Cat's_ angular torso. He stumbled and crashed into the remaining half of a huge concrete block.

Fred muttered to himself in frustration and swiveled his right gun to the side, to glance out the cockpit window. His eyes widened immediately, upon discovering that nearly the entire view was taken up by the silhouette of a _Loki_-- one of the Clans' meanest heavy-class brawlers.

"Aw, crap," he grumbled, as he toggled the joystick and shifted his weight away from the building quickly. He stomped down on the throttle, then slammed on his jets, trying to free himself as soon as he could.

"Kill 'im, already, Sanders!"

"Shut up!" the female pilot barked. "My PPCs have to recycle, you moron."

Just as the formidable _Loki_ turned it's trademark hexagonal guns on Prewitt to back up the point, the block which had captured Fred crumbled a little.

He instantly slapped his jumpjets again and hopped forward, away from the obstacle. The _Loki_ noticed this and turned to give chase, but Prewitt was still too blind with ash to follow. A stream of C-STRKs swarmed after him, nearly missing the shoulder of his medium chassis. Fred dived hard to the left and ducked out through one of the DIY doors of the arena. Behind him, the heavy, thundering steps of the _Loki_ followed. Radar showed the _Hellhound_ attempting to do the same. With another frustrated grunt, he decided to cut his losses and skittered off into the streets full-throttle. A PPC clawed the side of a building just instants behind him, followed by another close but miss-placed strike, as the two enemies faded off his radar.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Randi paused, panting for breath, and flicked away the tiny stream of sweat that was running down into her eye. Her hair was thoroughly soaked and stringy, and tied back into a loose ponytail that was quickly coming undone as she moved. She gave a huff of irritation, pulled the band out of her hair, and then tied it back quickly.

"Okay," she muttered, cracking her knuckles. She tried hard to look at the sadly worn punching bag instead of the clock. The instant she tried, of course, she failed and glanced back over her shoulder at the annoying red numbers. Only a measly three minutes had passed since she last stopped to check. Angered with the clock and still distressed about what it indicated, she slammed her cloth-wrapped fist hard into the punching bag. A chunk of stuffing flew out of a seam she had busted earlier, and it swung back at her. She snapped to a ready position and then kicked the thing as it came back to her. She landed two more solid punches, loosing more stuffing, and then hopped back away from it. What she really wanted, of course, was some_one_ to fight, instead of this lifeless sack. The hangar was long empty, though, and she would not have picked a fight with the techs, anyway. Randi sighed.

_'Where is he?' _she wondered._ 'He should have been here an hour ago...'_

She eyed the radio on a nearby table and sighed. Fred had explicitly told her _not_ to contact him, and not to come looking for him. If not for that, she would have been out in the _Bushwhacker_ looking for him. Suddenly, against all expectations, the device emitted a chirp and the receiver light came on.

"Randi!"

She tackled the radio and snatched up the receiver. "Copy, sir! What is your—"

"Open the doors!" Fred exclaimed. He sounded not fearful, but very anxious and short of breath.

Randi dropped the receiver and darted up the stairs to the catwalk. Halfway up, she stumbled, grabbing for the handrail only to lose her grip from the sweat on her palm. Outside, she could hear the quick, thundering steps of a fast medium 'Mech—comparatively dainty to the footfall of a larger chassis.

"Freebirth!" she hissed under her breath at no one in particular, as she scrambled back to her feet and up the last half of the stairs. As soon as she hit the landing at the top, she slapped the door lock open and pulled down the release. The double doors of the hangar slid open slowly, squealing a little bit. From outside, a search light penetrated the darkness and gleamed off the slick floor. Its source soon appeared: Fred's _Shadow Cat_ bleeding out fluid onto the concrete as he squeezed his 'Mech through the doors. Once he was inside, Randi hit the door switch again and bounded down to the end of the catwalk.

The battered little _Cat_ stopped, as if to catch its breath, and then more slowly crept up into the repair racks. The hatch eased open, and a little smoke streamed out, followed by a grimy hand.

"Fred?" she called, as she hurried over to the side of the 'Mech and pried the hatch up farther.

The dark-eyes man looked up at her and eased off his neuro-helmet. "That was quite possibly the worst surprise of my... week." He groaned a little and rubbed his forehead. "Thanks for letting me in."

"Of course," Randi replied as she took hold of his wrist and helped him stagger out of the cockpit. "What happened? I thought you would have been back an hour ago."

Fred peeled off his soaked cooling vest and sat down on the catwalk. "Oh, I would have," he muttered, glaring out into space. He looked back up at Randi. "You know how I told you that Prewitt conned me out of my 'Mech? Well, he tried to do the same thing again. I got him to fight me without the... eh, 'prize' he wanted, but after I started to get the upper hand, his backup arrived. Some chick in a _Loki_ came in, and cored up my _Cat_ with her PPCs. I had to lay low for awhile to get away from the two of them. At least they won't follow me into the city in their 'Mechs."

Randi nodded and sat down across from him. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. My console blew a fuse and started smoking. It just aggravated my sinuses—nothing serious."

They exchanged nods and then sat in a somewhat awkward silence for a few moments. Randi sat still holding the neauro-helmet and staring at her reflection. _'Kind of silly to be so concerned about him. It is silly to be concerned about anyone, much less a MechWarrior,'_ said her old self. But then, there was the newer part of her—the part that wished she would have told Maro who she was, told Aari, befriended her lancemates in the Scimitars. _'But...maybe it is silly _not_ to be concerned. ...I do not want to make the same mistake here that I made with the Scimitars.'_

As if the powers at be immediately sought to test this resolution, Fred suddenly looked up from the floor, and asked softly, "Randi? Is there... something about your past you...maybe haven't told me? You know, like something that might put you at odds with people like Prewitt?" He gave her an awkward sort of frown, as if uncomfortable with even posing this question. "I-I'm not suggesting you're hiding anything, of course," he said quickly. "Just something you might have forgotten to mention?"

"Something like what?" she asked slowly.

"I dunno. But Prewitt seemed kind of interested in you, and I doubt it's a romantic interest..."

At first, she froze. The Clan training imprinted in her mind screamed at her not to tell him. So many of her comrades had lost their lives for this secret; she could not divulge it to a freebirth. _'But he is not a freebirth. He is my friend, and he is in danger because of what I have not told him. ...And I am not Clan.'_ She frowned and looked up at him. "I... have something that a lot of people want. If Prewitt knows, then he probably wants it, too."

"What is it?"

After a moment of indecision, Randi sighed and came to a compromise. "I... do not want to tell you."

"Oh." Fred just blinked a little at first, then stood and walked off down the catwalk. As he passed, she caught a glimpse of his face in the neuro-helmet. He looked a little hurt.

She hesitated to follow him. She didn't know what to say, or if there even was anything to say. "I-I'm sorry..."

Fred turned and shrugged, with no trace of disappointment in his expression. "Hey, as long as it won't get us both killed, it doesn't matter. If you don't want to tell me, that's your right." He gave another apathetic shrug and turned. "See ya later."

"What? Where are you going?"

"Home. I need a shower," he replied as he walked out the door.

_'This...is confusing,'_ Randi thought as she stared after him for a moment. _'He says he doesn't care, but he looked a little upset. Hm. Maybe he just got over it very quickly. I hope he is not mad at me...'_

She sighed and walked down the stairs slowly, making sure not to slip like she had on the way up to the landing. Although her shin already throbbed a little from slamming it into the hard metal, she never even noticed. She was far too preoccupied with trying to figure out Fred's behavior. Her worst constant fear wasn't the Scimitars, or even being found out as a Clanner. What scared her the most, no matter how hard she tried to deny it, was pushing away the only friend she had.

As a trueborn and a Star Captain, Randi had never been given the option of fear. To be afraid was to be weak, and to be weak was to be as good as dead. She had her life and the lives of her subordinates to worry about. There was no room for fear. Now that she had none of those responsibilities, she had plenty of room to doubt herself, to doubt the things around her. Nothing was cut and dry, and she was always alone.

That was truly frightening.

Confused and tired, she finally decided to head back to the apartment.

_'Maybe,'_ she thought hopefully,_ 'things will be better tomorrow.'_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"I never was good with people," Randi muttered as she lay staring up at the water-stained ceiling of her apartment. _'Not unless we were in battle, anyway.' _She closed her eyes, and chuckled a little. The purpose of the Clan eugenics program was to make each Warrior more deadly than the last. That meant she was supposed to end up with all the good genes for killing people. She had begun to suspect, however, that she'd been dunked in the shallow end of the gene pool when it came to people skills.

She had been a good commander when she held her Star Captaincy. Her subordinates respected, obeyed, trusted her with their lives. They always worked as a pack, just like the Clan's esteemed namesake and rarely did she have to use a Circle of Equals to put anyone back into line. Outside of duty, though she knew she was a failure with people.

Radcliffe was the only one she ever felt completely comfortable around, and he wasn't even a Warrior. Then again, maybe that was why she liked to be around him—she never had to compete with him for anything. Besides Radcliffe, she had two gym-buddies, and that wasn't saying much. The former was an Elemental woman, who too-often used more than the necessary amount of force to take down Randi in spars. Remembering one such incident, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, feeling over a very subtle aberration in the bone where it had healed a little oddly. The latter of the two was a MechWarrior like herself; but unlike her, he was a terrible flirt. Attractive as he was, she found his behavior terribly annoying and verging unClanlike. The only reason she put up with him at all was because he was the best opponent she could find, and her biggest competitor for a promotion to Star Colonel.

Even thinking about him, though, made her somewhat agitated.

_'He was always trying to charm someone into doing something for him. Always looking so self-satisfied with that ridiculously smug grin of his,'_ she thought. _'Hmph, what do I care about Akela, anyway? He was always such a shameless stravag. Besides, I ought to be thinking about what to do about Fred.'_

She sighed and rolled over on her side, digging her fingers back into her hair pensively. She wished things would just go away—all the awkwardness between them, the possibility that he was angry. What she wanted most was to just ignore the problem and pretend it wasn't an issue. After all, she had gotten by on that strategy so far. However, there was the pesky fact that she actually wanted to be friends with the man.

Pulling the covers tighter around her, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. _'Things will be better tomorrow,'_ she insisted to herself, trying for once to be positive about her situation.

Drifting into sleep, she started to ponder some solutions. Just as soon the worries lost a little bit of their grip, her tired brain seized its opportunity and presented her with the most logical of solutions. She wrinkled her nose a little, at first doubting the logic, but was too tired to protest. _'I'll talk to him about it.'_

It was all too soon when he alarm began to beep at her furiously to get up. Admittedly, it was better than getting barked out of sleep by the sibko trainers, as they usually followed up on their fierce tongue-lashings with a swift kick or two. Looking over at the clock readout groggily, Randi was forced to concede that she had indeed slept for eight whole hours. It didn't feel like it but the clock probably wasn't lying, so she rolled out from under the covers and started getting dressed.

A quick bite to eat, and she was out the door. It was a baking hot day even this early, with heat rising up off the asphalt and bringing with it the stench. Randi gagged a little and walked down the street. There were few people out due to the heat, but Ned and Harrison were standing outside the door looking unhappily at boxy piece of equipment.

"Piece o' crap..." muttered Harrison grumpily as he wiped his brow with a rag. He stared down at the machinery, frowning deeply. "Well, it's gonna hafta wait."

"Man, it'd be nice if Fred 'ould stop bringing that _Cat_ back in half-skinned. Spend more time on the A/C that way..."

"Bah, you oughtta know better. It's _Fred_ we're talkin' about, remember? He doesn't do that whole 'one piece' deal."

"Yeah, yeah, but I keep hoping."

Randi forced a somewhat friendly smile despite the heat and walked up to the two technicians. "Uh, hello."

Harrison twitched the corners of his mouth like some attempt to return the smile, but the heat had obviously beat the pleasantness out of him. He wiped at his brow again with the rag. "Might as well go on home, Miss."

"What?" She was just about to snap back at him when Ned, cut her off.

"Fred's gone," he said, as he plopped down on the white metal box. "You're welcome to hang out here if you like, but with the boss man gone and the air conditioner out, it's probably best to just call this a vacation day. That hangar's like one big oven right now. Hotter than it is here."

Randi glanced between the two technicians. "Oh. Uh, where is Fred, then?"

"Heck if we know," muttered Ned. "He just takes up and leaves sometimes for a day or two." He snapped his fingers, demonstrating. "Just like that."

"Just like that?"

Harrison nodded, completely unconcerned. "He doesn't leave a note or a memo, he just takes off and comes back when he feels like it. Luckily, that's usually before the bills are due."

_'How in the world can they be so nonchalant about him disappearing?'_ she wondered in disbelief. "What about the _Shadow Cat_?"

"Still in the hangar. All three 'Mechs are right where we left 'em. You know, you really shouldn't go look for him."

Randi shrugged blithely and tied her hair back to keep it off her neck. "Who said anything about that?" She was starting to feel the heat beating on her as the sun climbed higher, but she tried not to show her discomfort. Instead, she just waved nicely to the techs and sauntered off down the street.

Midday came and there was still no sign of Fred. After searching all over and nearly losing herself twice, Randi was no closer to finding him than she had been that morning. Hot and tired, she was severely tempted to give up and go sleep through the rest of the day, per Ned's advice. Every time she considered that, however, she felt a knot wrench in her gut with the same uneasy feeling that prompted her to go looking in the first place. She was especially concerned that Fred had _not _taken his 'Mech. Prewitt and that _Loki_ pilot were still out there, as far as she knew, and she doubted they had given up their hunt. Luckily for her, the waitress at _The Flea's Hideout_ suggested one last possibility for his whereabouts: a shooting range.

She checked in, grabbed a set of earmuffs and goggles and quickly found her way through the building to the range. Randi was a little surprised to see him as she approached the clear glass door. She was not at all surprised, however, that Fred was the only shooter present. He stood with a very grim expression and a what struck her as a surprisingly disciplined stance, completely oblivious to her presence as she walked into the room. He was too busy glowering down the range and shooting the same target in its "heart" to notice her.

"Fred?" she called, raising her voice a little.

He either ignored her, or again didn't notice her. Instead of responding in the slightest, he just squeezed off ten more rounds from his laser pistol into the same spot on his target.

"Fred!"

At that, he stopped and glanced sideways to her, then back to the target. Fred dropped one hand from his pistol. Clicked the trigger, and left a smoking hole in the target's forehead. "Well, ya found me," he said with a sigh, as he pulled his ear muffs down around his neck.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"I did not know you were such a marksman," Randi said, trying to ease things a little.

Fred just shrugged a little as he holstered his laser pistol. "Sharpshooter, actually. Eh, I'm not as much of an amateur as I look. I used to be in the army a few years back when I still lived on Praxton."

"You became a mercenary when you completed your tour of duty, yes?"

"Uh... Actually, no," he replied. "I was, ahem, discharged."

The Clan expatriate raised an eyebrow questioningly. She knew Fred was from the Periphery, and guessed that Praxton, like most such planets, was a soldier-poor world. Getting discharged sounded to her like a pretty difficult thing to accomplish. "What did you do?"

"More like what _didn't_ I do? Uh, let's see... Writing 'cadet graveyard' and 'Fredtopia' on the maps, sending the new recruits on snipe hunts and jackalope patrol, telling everyone that Big Brother was watching us on the holovids... The CO never did appreciate the secure, hardened HQ I made with duct tape and two-by-fours, or all the times I insisted that we needed _winter_ actuators for the 'Mechs and buckets of striped paint. And she _really_ didn't appreciate me telling the newbies that their designation was 'bait'. I just did a bunch of dumb stuff and eventually, they got fed up with me. The last straw was probably that recon exercise with the cadets, when I yelled that there were 'Klingons off the starboard bow'. I don't think the poor kids even knew what starboard was, but they were sure gonna kill it."

Randi frowned a little. "You got yourself kicked out of a Periphery army for pulling pranks?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? I was a bored kid who had, at least to my way of thinking, nothing better to do. I was immature and looking for something to keep myself amused. At least I learned how to shoot stuff before they threw me out on my ear," he said as he walked outside into the baking heat with Randi. "Speaking of, what's the emergency? I wanna get back to the range. It's hot out here."

She frowned a little and looked over at him. It was too late to back out now. "You're mad at me."

"Mad? Who's mad?" he said with a dismissive laugh. "Look, if it's nothing important, I'm gonna go back in. Those targets aren't gonna smoke themselves."

"Is it because I would not tell you?" she persisted, trotting up to his side. "I just... I thought it would be better for you not to know."

The merc shoved his hands down in his pockets and sighed. "You know, I try to trust you, Randi, I do. But it's kind of unfair for you to expect me to have faith in you, when you don't have much faith in me."

"Because I will not tell you about this? I told you what you needed to know."

"Yeah, after I asked you about it. I'd also appreciate it if you'd be more forthcoming with this stuff, since it's apparently dangerous."

"It has nothing to do with you."

"I think it has plenty to do with me— I was getting shot with PPCs." The he mumbled, "Drinking shots of PPCs would've been okay, though."

"You do not understand!" Randi insisted, growing a little angry. "People died for this thing! My starmates died for it! I am not about to just spill all the details to a freebo—" She clapped her hand to her mouth, eyes widening. "Sorry, I-I should not have..."

"Yeah, you're right. You shouldn't," Fred snapped angrily. His dark eyes looked just a tad fierce; it was the first time she had ever seen him look truely upset with her. "I don't understand what your problem is. I help you out, give you a job, get you set up here, get my 'Mech shot up on your account, and all you can say is it's none of my business and then _insult_ me? If you don't want my help, then fine! Have it your way."

"Stop it," she fumed. "That isn't what I meant."

He shook his head and started walking off down the street. "Well, sometimes what you mean isn't worth as much as what you do. And right now, I don't give a rip what you do," he muttered crossly.

_'This is a disaster!'_ she thought, biting her lip. She tried fast to think of something to persuade him.

Randi turned to follow the man, only to watch in horror as his flesh suddenly ruptured under the force of a bullet ripping through his right shoulder. Blood flowered from the wound, soaking his shirt and then steaming as fat drops of it hit the concrete. Fred doubled over and stumbled into the wall. With a sharp grunt and a curse, he grabbed his shoulder with his left hand, trying to stop the bleeding.

Randi shot a quick glance back behind and sprinted over to his side. "Fred! Are you oka—"

"Get my gun!" he barked, gritting his teeth against the pain as he struggled to get back on his feet.

She complied, snatching the pistol from the holster on his hip as she turned and flattened herself against the wall. Another gunshot barked the wall, cleaving through a brick behind her while Fred ducked around the corner. She scanned the street for the shooter and spotted a man in the door portal of a building across the street. He kept himself close to the edge of the portal, with a semi-automatic handgun in his grip.

"That was a warning shot!" he shouted. "Next time, it's gonna be your boyfriend's brains on the pavement!"

"Prewitt," Randi hissed under her breath as she edged back.

Another shot chipped at the wall near her.

"Stay where you are!"

"What do you want?" she shouted back angrily.

"You know what it is!" Prewitt replied. "Now, hand it over, and we'll let Acosta live."

Randi's eyes widened._'We?'_ Then she remembered the_ Loki_ pilot. Disregarding Prewitt, she turned swiftly and darted around the corner of the building. A bullet chased her, grazing her shoulder, but the stress hormones in her veins numbed the pain. As she turned the corner, she brought up her gun and found herself staring into empty space. The only sign of Fred was a little streaming trail of blood leading from the sidewalk to a van. Its engine revved and the tires bit down into the pavement, leaving behind black streaks of rubber residue. Randi sprinted off after it, and fired at the tires. Before she could get a bead on it, however, the vehicle turned a sharp corner and disappeared from view.

"Freebirth!" she yelled angrily, not caring who heard her. Knowing that she could not catch up now, she snarled and turned to go back for Prewitt.

As it happened, however, that proved to be unnecessary.

"What can I say? It's pack tactics, babe," said Prewitt with a laugh as he sauntered down the street towards her. His gun was shoved snugly in its holster, and his thumbs hooked down in the waistband of his jeans.

Randi glared and leveled the laser pistol she held, aiming it squarely between his eyes.

The man just laughed. "Oh, that's a _great_ idea: shoot the guy who knows where Fred is. Ha, no wonder you Clanners are going extinct."

"Tell me where he is, or it will be _your_ brains on the pavement," she growled, setting her finger on the trigger. It was no bluff.

Prewitt just rolled his eyes. "You really don't know how this works, do ya? Well, let me explain. You see, we just kidnapped Fred. You like Fred, so you probably want him to live. Probably want him in _one piece_, too. We want those schematics. You don't want to give us the schematics." He grinned. "But I'll bet you care more about Fred than you do those plans. So, if you play nice and give them to us, we'll give him back to you. If you're quick about it, we'll send him back in fairly good condition, too."

"Stravag," Randi hissed. "Fred has nothing to do with this."

"Well, he does now. It's your choice, but you'd better make up your mind soon," said Prewitt. "One way or another, we're gonna get those plans, so it's advisable to minimize your losses. Bring them to the old arena, and come on foot—alone." With another sickeningly victorious grin, he turned and walked off, whistling casually.

Randi gripped the pistol tight until her knuckles turned pale. She was severely tempted to just shoot Prewitt, anyway. The Clans did things fast and hard, and she wanted a fast, very bloody revenge right now. The tactical concern of the situation won out, though. If she killed Prewitt, she lost not only her link to Fred but risked worsening the situation, as well.

_'Who knows what they might do to him if I killed Prewitt,'_ she thought, lowering the laser pistol. She sighed, defeated, and turned on the safety. _'I guess I have no choice.'_

* * *

_Notes: Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing lately! Things have been a little rough for me the past few months, so all your kind comments and critique have really helped me. __I'm very pleased that the original _Black Wolf_ now has 2,000+ hits, and the sequel _Tooth & Nail _has received 1,000+ hits. Your support makes writing this very rewarding._


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Randi barely noticed the streets as she walked, mostly staring down at the road or out into the blank, heat-distorted air in front of her. She felt like a drone 'Mech just trudging along on autopilot. It was as if the whole world was just slipping by the little bubble of pensive thought and shock that enveloped her. She saw the hangar and the techs, but never really registered their presence nor the chair in which she finally parked herself.

Finally, a rough, calloused hand on her shoulder shook her out of her daze. She looked around the hangar, trying for a moment to remember how she got there, and then looked up at Ned.

"Hey..." he said softly. It was the kind of gentle concern one used with a person who was not well; he probably thought that Randi was suffering some kind of heat sickness. "What happened?"

"Hm? Oh. Oh, nothing," she muttered.

"But...your arm is bleeding."

Randi looked down at her bicep in surprise and fingered the edge of the wound, wiping off some dried blood. "I-it's nothing. Just a little scrape."

Ned frowned, looking somewhat suspicious about her dismissal of the injury. "Did you guys get in a fight?" he asked. "It's not like Fred to hit a lady... Er—I mean, not that you're frail or anything."

"No, there was no fight. I was just a little clumsy."

"So... Where's Fred?"

Randi's eyes widened just a little, as she tried to keep the shock off her face. "I...do not know. Uh, I never looked for him." The nervousness was edging into her voice, so she stood and turned away from him. "When we got here, Fred told me he could not afford to repair my _Tim_— my _Mad Cat_. Um... How much would it cost to fix it?"

Ned scratched his head and frowned. "Oh, boy. I dunno. It's pretty roughed up, and Clan tech's expensive. I guess it depends on what you're lookin' at fitting it with. Harrison could give ya a good estimate estimate. I'd guess you're lookin' at at least—"

"Then get started. Please. Just...whatever it costs, I will pay for it."

Ned gave a brief nod and looked up at the hulking black OmniMech. "Right away, ma'am," he muttered, sounding a little surprised.

She and Fred had not even spent a full month on Solaris, and had played only one match each. One game's winnings was not enough to fix her beloved _Timber Wolf_, but there was a match tomorrow, and the _Bushwhacker_ was primed for another fight.

_'I had better count on fighting against Marcus Prewitt in his _Hellhound_ and that _Loki_ at the same time. _Nyx_ is the only 'Mech available that can withstand such punishment,'_ she determined, as she sat back down in the chair. _'Now, Fred told me that the _Loki_ used PPCs, so it must be a Primary configuration.'_

She swiveled around in the chair quickly as Ned and Harrison walked into the room. "Fred's _Hellhound_. What was its armament?"

"It _was_ fitted out with a light gauss, light PPC and quad small lasers," said the older man. "But that was two years ago. I'm not sure what all's been done to it, weapons-wise. The damage the _Cat_ took from it was autocannon fire, so Prewitt obviously has a different loadout now."

Randi nodded and glanced back at the aforementioned chassis. _'It survived because it is fast, and Fred did not stay to fight. _Nyx_ is slower than both of the 'Mechs I would face, but outweighs the _Loki

She had very little information on the forces she would confront. Choosing her weapons was going to be like a game of Russian roulette with only one empty chamber. She still needed to form a plan, too. That was something she knew she could do, and it gave her confidence. As a Star Captain, she had been through this routine time and again, and only once had she ever fallen prey to bad odds. That once, however, was once too often for her tastes.

Randi curled her fingers into a fist, refusing to let circumstance get the better of her. "Harrison?"

"Yeah?"

She glanced back to the 'Mechs in the repair racks. "I know what I installed on my _Mad Cat:_ a PPC, a C-STRK-6, and an LRM-5s for the primary weapons. After that, I will take whatever else you can cram in it."

Both of the men just balked at her.

"D-do you have _any_ idea how much that's gonna cost?!" Harrison sputtered.

Randi shook her head. "I do not care."

"It's gotta be abou' two hundred, and that ain't even countin' all the new armor!"

"_I don't care_," she repeated firmly. "Take as much as you can from the other 'Mechs. Weapons, armor, myomer—anything. Just wait until after tomorrow's match to cannibalize the _Bushwhacker."_

Harrison gave her a stubborn look. "No way. Those 'Mechs belong to Fred, and I'm not takin' _anything_ out of 'em without his approval."

_'A lot of good it will do him, right now,'_ Randi thought. She decided to be braver in her request. "I understand that, and I would not ask you to do this if it was not important. I am afraid that I cannot explain everything; _'cause I said so'_ is going to have to suffice as a reason. Now," Randi continued, noting the doubtful look they gave her, "I want these repairs done by Wednesday morning. There is no room for error, and absolutely no room for delay. Am I perfectly clear?"

"Crystal," grunted Harrison. "But I think Wednesday is a little unreasonable with just two of us."

"Hire as many people as you need to complete the work, and send me the bill," she said with a wave of her hand. "You had better get started." She started towards the door, then stopped suddenly and turned. "And whatever you do," she said, the Warrior edge creeping back into her voice, "do _not_ touch _Nyx's_ computer."

* * *

Randi felt guilty waiting for the game to start. Sitting down in the already toasty cockpit of the _Bushwhacker_ was more like waiting in a cesspool than a bloodpit at the moment. It was all she could do not to wonder and worry about Fred, to brood on what they were doing to him. She wanted to be doing something, but unfortunately the only course of action was to play. Play, win, and then use the money on _Nyx_. However, it felt like inaction. That just made her hate the bloodpits, hate the games, and hate Solaris so much more than ever. 

She cursed a little to herself and at herself as the gates rose in front of her slowly. She set her teeth, turning through her mind all the things her sibko instructors had told her. She knew she had let the incident with the Scimitars cow her, but no more. The quicker her victory over the rabble of upstarts and timeys, the quicker she could help Fred. To do that, she had to get back her Wolf Clan ferocity.

_'I made the rank of Star Captain by crushing my enemies, not hiding from them!'_ she told herself. _'These freebirths are nothing to me.'_

The _Bushwhacker_ swayed a little, it's low, irregular frame slicing the air as it turned. Randi quickly grouped her weapons, leaving the LRM-5s on their own to minimize the chance of firing them. The missiles were there if she needed them. Then she turned to her radar and examined her opponents. There seven 'Mechs in the arena, not counting her own. One of them was Clan.

"A _Loki?_" she gasped aloud as her eyes riveted to the red dot farthest from her. It could have been a coincidence, but for Clan officers, coincidence did not exist. Even now, to borrow an InnerSphere idiom, she would have bet money that the powerful OmniMech was piloted by the very same woman who had aided Marcus Prewitt.

Her lips curled back into a smile as the gates opened completely. Prewitt did not know that his accomplice had been revealed, and that gave Randi a tactical edge.

The starting horn blared and she gunned the throttle. As she bolted out of the dark niche into the area, she turned hard, strafing right. Before the _Dervish_ she circled could even step out of its hole, Randi hammered it in the gut with her AC10. The force of the rounds and the pointblank range made the enemy shudder hard. The pilot swung the 'Mech's clunky arm in a short arc to the upper side of its antagonist. The low, slim design of the _Bushwhacker_ proved to be a blessing at that moment, as the short punch only grazed the top hull. Despite the insignificant damage, however, the attack easily provoked Randi.

She had already determined that she did not have time for foolishness. Rather than chide her opponent with more weapons fire, she sliced her torso to the left and slammed her right side into the _Dervish's _hip. The pilot easily lost balance and the old 'Mech stumbled back. Seizing the moment of weakness, Randi grilled the damaged hip actuator with her large laser. The weak armor sizzled, bubbling like water in a saucepan as she held steady on the trigger. The pilot seemed to panic a little, no doubt realizing the severity of the attack. For every step it took, however, Randi kept after it. Only when her heat began to climb dangerously did she release the laser. By the time that happened, however, the steaming metal had already run all down the leg and into the actuator. When the 'Mech moved in the slightest, ugly grey liquid splurted out.

The _Dervish_ returned fire with its missiles, but only the SRMs chipped at her armor. The LRMs whoosed up into the air, sailing into the atmosphere at a nice 45 degree angle, then backtracked and slammed into the ground at her feet. Her Bushwhacker was far too close for the enemy's LRMs to have any effect as she circled itShe kept after it, hammering the hulk of decrepit 'Mech into submission with her autocannon at near-pointblank range. The rhythmic discharge of each round barked off a spray of effective fragments that could have easily killed a person. Randi steeled her nerves and shot it in the center torso, just below the cockpit. The jet of armor shrapnel flew out in all directions, but a good portion smacked into the plexiglass canopy. She watched carefully as the metal scared up the cockpit like buckshot and the 'Mech slowed.

A siren sounded, and the _Dervish_ pilot retreated quickly back into the starting gate for medical attention.

A grim half-smile crossed Randi's face as she turned and cantered off to a wounded _Lynx_. The once-Star League design looked strangely organic, and was not particularly suited for this small arena. Nevertheless, as it looked up from its own kill, it immediately met her advance with a PPC to the torso and then darted off to the left, hugging the wall. Apparently, its pilot was not nearly so poor a shot as most of the fighters. Randi strafed around, presenting the smallest aspect possible to the _Lynx's_ vicious beam weapon. It grazed its medium lasers over her torso, but she ignored the yellow color seeping over her armor display.

Once she came parallel to the 55-tonner, she slammed on the throttle and hooked her gun on its left arm solidly. The pilot seemed quite startled by her brash tactics, and tried to worm away from her. Rather than let go, Randi moved to keep their 'Mechs locked, then rushed forward and slammed her unwilling dance partner into the steel wall. Before the _Lynx _had a chance to recover, she whipped around again, throwing it forward. It stumbled, but found its balance and stabbed her with its large laser. The _Bushwhacker's_ left torso started turning orange, but her opponent fared worse.

_'Looks like all that time in the simulators was not for nothing,'_ she thought.

Eager to keep up the odds in her favor, she darted in close to the _Lynx_ as it fired its PPC again. The blue energy splashed against an approaching _Dragon_. The 60-ton brute had lost much of its armor and its entire right arm. Wounded as it was, it eagerly plowed ten LRMs into the face of the _Lynx_.

Randi slipped back a little and checked her radar. The _Loki_ was engaged with a _Merlin_, which it was quickly shredding apart. It would not be long before the pilot turned her attention and the vicious guns of her 'Mech to Randi.

All too soon, the horns blared again. The _Merlin_ went down with the _Dragon_ falling in quick succession. Without so much as a glance in Randi's direction, the _Loki_ shot out the _Lynx's_ knee. As ancient BattleMech crashed to the ground, bleeding fluid and myomer guts, the Clan chassis advanced. There was a loud, remorseless crunch as _Loki_ walked over the _Merlin's_ ripped torso towards Randi. The _Hellbringer_, she thought, was a much better name for it.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The _Loki_ circled slowly, sizing up the competition. While it was a 65-ton 'Mech, it had suffered some damage from the other players. The way the pilot moved her 'Mech spoke of confidence and a superior attitude. The woman who controlled that beastly 'Mech was sure of her skill and victory. With such audacity and skill, it was a wonder why she was hanging around a place like this and not en route to the Championships.

_'Maybe like me,'_ Randi thought, as she circled the _Loki_ in turn, _'she does not want publicity...'_ Right now, there was no signal that the 65-tonner planned to attack, but that meant nothing. Any second, those dual ER PPCs could come scrambling across the armor of her _Bushwhacker_. That was not a pleasant prospect.

With no warning of her own, Randi drew first blood with the AC/10 and punched a hole in the center of the _Loki's _hip armor. The force and location of the shot made it stagger, but the pilot regained her equilibrium and turned hard to chase after Randi. A spray of C-STRKs pursued her, with all but two falling short and crashing into the wall. She hit the throttle and tried to weave out of the dangerous OmniMech's crosshairs, only to be met with an annoying pitt-patta-pitta of machine gun fire. Randi raked the torso of the opposing 'Mech with her large laser, dipping the beam down to the wound she had made with her autocannon.

The _Loki_ tried to sidestep, obviously feeling the effects of the laser fire. Randi kept up the pressure, then released the trigger and swiftly cycled to her AC/10. A split second before she could bury another round in the enemy 'Mech, a swash of lighting clawed the chassis of her _Bushwhacker_. The HUD turned fuzzy, but through the static she could see that her left torso was blinking. One way or another, this was going to be a short fight.

_'But she's going down with me!'_ Randi determined, pounding the rounds of her heavy autocannon into the boxy torso of the Loki.

She glared fiercely through the plexiglass at her opponent and mashed down the trigger for the LRMs. Ten missiles sprang from the triangular rack on her _Bushwhacker's_ shoulder, but less than half of them managed to slam into the torso of the enemy 'Mech. Randi grit her teeth, watching the majority of the warheads explode midair well in front of the brutish Loki, thanks to the LAMs. The chassis had always been one of the 'Mechs she most loathed to fight; it was a match even for the firepower of a 'Mech like _Nyx_.

Randi leaned the joystick hard left, strafing her opponent as she turned, and stomped down on the throttle. The _Bushwhacker_ was not the most nimble thing she had ever piloted, but it was faster than the _Loki_. As hard as she pushed her 'Mech, however, nothing could outrun lighting. The 55-tonner staggered as its HUD fuzzed up again and charred armor flaked off the torso. Electricity jumped across the hull in front of her eyes, and a warning tone began to beep in the cockpit.

_"Ammunition explosion: imminent,"_ reported the computer sweetly.

"Shut it, stravag!" Randi snapped at the voice automatically as she scanned the controls. She knew she was getting sloppy not to have checked for a CASE before. The seconds it took to locate the ammunition ejection system seemed far too long, but she did find it. The barrel of ammo popped out from the _Bushwhacker's_ hull just as a slew of weapons ravaged her 'Mech. It was a long way to the ground, though, and that gave her plenty of time to step back and light the edge of the drum with her laser.

There was a magnificent bloom of light, heat, and energy as the ammo drum exploded, ripping through the air and everything else near it. The mighty _Loki's_ torso was slapped hard to the right as the shock wave struck it. The debris shrapnel ripped into its armor, leaving evidence in red, glowing pock marks on the ferro-fibrous.

Even as the fragments tore up her enemy, they tore into Randi's chassis, as well. It was worth it to slash at the _Loki_, and it was all she could have done. Winning the game simply wasn't in the cards this time.

Still, Randi chuckled darkly as the _Loki_ tried to recover from the shock. Her own 'Mech kept falling backwards, and crashed into the dirt on its hip. She braced herself and let the impact shock travel through her body and leave again through the command couch.

When she recovered, head throbbing and body bruised, she could see the Loki stumbling a little. 'I_ would like to see her walk that off,'_ Randi thought with a smile as she noted all the ferro-fibrous slag running down the enemy 'Mech's chest.

The horns blared for the final kill, and she unfastened her harness.

* * *

"My God, Randi!" exclaimed Harrison in disbelief as she entered the hangar. "What in blazes was _that?!_" 

"Necessity," she replied without batting an eyelash.

The technician fumed some curses as he snatched off his hat and threw it to the floor. "Do you have _any_ idea how long it took us to get that thing in working order?! Do you have _any_ idea how long it's gonna take to fix it again?! How much it'll cost?!"

"No, but you can tell me all about it after you fix my _Mad Cat_."

"No way! Damage is to be expected, but this is ridiculous. I watched that whole match, and I don't know if I've ever seen more reckless piloting! Fred's dang-near suicidal in a 'Mech sometimes, but even he doesn't go around torching CASE barrels," the man growled, wiping the cascade of sweat from his brow. The lack of air conditioning probably made his foul mood more acute. "Your 'Mech is on hold 'til we get this _Bushwhacker_ back in half-decent shape."

Randi crossed her arms, ignoring the little streams of sweat that ran down the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. "I am paying you to work on Nyx, and the work must be done soon."

"You ain't my boss, lady; Fred is. And he's not gonna be happy if I leave this _BW_ sittin' here with its innards hangin' out."

_'If you only knew...'_ Randi thought to herself. "Fix the _Mad Cat_, and do not worry about the _Bushwhacker_ right now."

"You tryin' to tell me what to do?" he growled.

She frowned in return. "As a paying customer, I believe that is my right. If you stop working, I will not pay you anything at all."

Harrison glared for a moment, but in the end, conceded. "Fine," he said with a huff. "But you oughtta know there's some loose wires in that targeting computer of yours. I don't know Clan computers, and I don't know where in blazes you got an original system, but I _do _know it's broke."

"So do I."

"I think I can fix it. Well, the wiring, least ways. If I—"

Randi interrupted with a firm tone. "I told you not to touch the computer. Did you think I was joking, or do my instructions mean nothing? _Do not touch it!_"

The technician gave another angry huff and picked his hat up off the floor. "Fine."

"And take the LRMs out of the _Bushwhacker_ to install in my 'Mech."

She could hear the many muttering some more unkind things as he stormed off to resume work on _Nyx_. She frowned a little and surveyed what they had accomplished so far. The second PPC had been installed—most likely an InnerSphere version. The C-STRKs were loaded, as well. The thing of greatest concern now was the LRMs. If the modifications and repairs took too long, she felt that she could forgo the additional machine gun arrays. It probably would have helped, she realized, if the jumpjets were removed from the chassis. She doubted she would make use of them, so it was just several pounds of dead weight. In any event, it was too late to ask now and would probably take too long.

Harrison's ill attitude towards the repairs was the biggest problem right now. Although she had given him free reign to bring in outside workers, she was not at all comfortable with the prospect of leaving the management in the hands of a total stranger. Despite the current friction, Randi had made up her mind to trust Ned and Harrison with her precious OmniMech.

_'Fred was right. I have to trust them, if they are to trust me. I need their cooperation,'_ she thought.

She peeled off her cooling vest and started scrounging around for a toolkit. Upon locating one, she trotted outside into the hot day. The air conditioner was sitting near the door in the same place it had been previously. Now, however, it was billowing up waves of heat off its unpainted metal casing.

Randi slipped her hand into a well-worn glove she had found with the toolkit and then tapped the case as a test. She repeated the motion a couple more times until she was satisfied that she would not be burned.

"Well, then," she murmured aloud as began working at the screws which held the cover in place, "to work."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Ned? Harrison?" Randi called as she trotted inside, having fixed the air conditioner. As she walked further inward, she could hear a small flurry of voices, accented with occasional shouts of tech jargon and Spheroid slang. Just below that was the quick, guitar-laden beat of music. The lyrics were indecipherable to the former Clanner, though she suspected they were, in fact, English words.

As the MechWarrior stood watching, Harrison emerged from behind a stack of crates on one of the upper catwalks. "Okay, everybody, that's the last of 'em! Nice work, boys and girls."

The other techs responded with various shouts of excitement, obviously glad to be finished with the work. As they filed out, Randi slipped in past the crowd, grabbed her cooling vest, and walked up to meet Harrison on the catwalk.

"Thank you," she said, "for doing this."

The big man turned and shrugged a little. "Don't get used to the special treatment, Miss. But, heck, this is a nice 'Mech. She's been a real beaut to work on," he replied. "An Omni like this is pretty rare. Fred's _Hellhound_ cost him about an arm and a leg, and it was stripped down to the bones and didn't have any of its original systems. Can't imagine what kinda luck or money you got goin' for ya to wind up with a _Mad Cat_ like this."

_'Neither...'_ she thought. Instead she just gave a little bit of a chuckle and slipped on her vest. She had learnt that Spheroids would often simply chuckle when they did not wish to answer. "So, you will send me the bill, yes?"

"Sure thing. I don't think you're gonna like it, but..."

"Aw, it wasn't that bad," said Ned as he appeared, scrambling over the OmniMech's left gun to the catwalk. "Anyway, we got everything you asked for, right down to the machine guns, and—"

"I need to leave." Randi looked up at the clock on the wall behind her. "Thank you again." She darted past the two men hurriedly and jumped into the cockpit. Now that her 'Mech was back in working order, there was no time to waste. She needed to get moving and get Fred.

"Geez, where's the fire?" muttered Ned as he walked up beside her, still standing on the walk way.

"Sorry, but I have to go. Now." She said, as she slid the neurohelmet over her head and punched the reactor start-up sequence. The Clan fusion reactor hummed to life with the same stable, ready frequency she knew so well.

Harrison approached the edge of the walk, as well. "Randi, what _is_ going on here?"

"I have no time to explain. Get a car and follow me. ...It's about Fred."

No sooner had she buckled her restraint harness, than the computer's voice greeted her. "Password protocol. MechWarrior, state name and initialization code."

She sat back in the command couch and slapped the cockpit hatch closed. "Star Captain Randi," she replied to the computer. As a short, hissing burst of air was pressed from the hatch, she glanced left to see the two technicians balking. "Command code is: _black wolf._"

"Confirmed," reported the computer. "Reactor: online. Sensors: offline. Weapons: online. Warning! Sensor systems are not responding. Targeting assistance for direct-fire weapons is disabled."

"I know," Randi murmured, as she turned off her radar. She took the joysticks and guided her OmniMech out of the hangar, and then punched the throttle.

It had been too long since she piloted this 'Mech. It had been too long since she felt like a part of her machine. Right now, she couldn't afford to be anything less than lethal, and having her own 'Mech again put her back on track. She and the huge, solid-black _Timber Wolf_ had been a package deal ever since Radcliffe started working on it. It was a piece of her, just like any limb.

_'And now,'_ she thought, steeling her nerves with Clan ferocity, _'I am going to _maul_ those freebirths.'_

The sky suddenly ruptured, splitting above her with a tremendous bolt of lighting that danced across the sky, followed by a loud crack that resounded for miles. Rain began to drizzle down unspectacularly, making a little pattering sound over her armor. Ignoring the precipitation, she scanned the area closely. The old arena loomed ahead looking like the picture of urban decay. Crude wall segments look ready to crumble at any moment, the arena floor was composed of an oozing ring of thick mud, and the single lamp that remained was shorting out.

"Prewitt!" Randi said, as she hit the comm. "I have the schematics. Now, hand over Fred."

"Not so fast, angel cakes," came the reply, accompanied by a chuckle. "First of all, I told you to come on foot."

"I did. Just not _my_ feet," she quipped, scanning the barren arena. "Do you want these plans or not?"

"I don't know. You're in a 'Mech. What's to keep you from fragging all of us as soon as you get Acosta?"

"Nothing. But if you do not release him, you will not get the plans."

"What if we kill him?"

"You really, really do not want to do that," she said, her voice edging on a snarl.

"Or else...?"

"Or else I trigger the self-destruct."

A small van rolled into the light. It was the same vehicle which had taken Fred before. For a moment, her concentration was split with concern for him. In that instant, her thoughts were severed by a familiar, deriding female laugh.

The comm snapped a little and the laughter faded. "Suicide? Oh, please. You don't have the guts, Randi. You never did."

"Jen!" Randi snarled, whipping her _Mad Cat_ around to face the _Loki_ she had fought previously.

The heavy 'Mech stood atop a rubble pile, looking down on Randi with both hex-pod guns aimed squarely at her torso. "I thought you'd try something 'heroic' like this. Don't be stupid. Just give us the plans and you can be on your way," Jen said as she guided her _Loki_ a step closer.

"No!" Randi shouted, as she backed up and leveled her guns at the holes in the enemy's armor. "Not this time. If you kill him, then I swear on _Kerensky's grave_ that I will destroy this 'Mech and everything in it!"

"Aw, crap!" came Prewitt's exasperated reply. "Sanders, she's got the plans in the cockpit with her!"

"Of _course_ she does!" the woman shot back. "But I'll bet it wouldn't be hard to get them if we _kill_ her."

"Come get me, freebirths!" Randi spat as she hit the throttle and strafed around the _Loki_.

As the machine turned to follow her, Randi stomped on the brake and turned hard, coming in under the opposing 'Mech's arc of fire. The maneuver bought her the precious seconds she needed to steady her crosshairs over the gouge she'd previously made in the _Loki's_ hip. She then throttled up, the _Mad Cat_ responding gracefully to her command, and then adjusted the crosshairs again. A surge of satisfaction coursed through her as she clicked the trigger, still running, and watched a blue stream of electricity course through the hole in Jen's 'Mech.

The _Loki_ stumbled, sliding a little down the rubble hill. Randi gave it a good dose of C-STRKs, knocking it sideways and nearly tipping it. Jen fought back, however, and regained control. She swiveled her _Loki_ right and cut into the _Mad Cat's_ hide with a medium laser. The green lance boiled a good half-ton of armor right off of the _Cat's_ broad right side.

Randi retaliated with her second PPC—a Spheroid type—and shocked her aggressor in the shoulder actuator. She cut her speed for a tighter turn and tried to close in for another hit. She had dealt Jen some heavy blows in the arena, and it was turning this fight in Randi's favor.

As the _Mad Cat_ turned, however, the obnoxious fire of an autocannon ripped across its hull. Randi tapped her jumpjets, now thankful that she hadn't removed them, and turned midair to face the new attacker. Out from the shadow of the rubble heaps and into the arena came the low, stalking profile of a _Hellhound_. With her sensors out, Randi could not find the state of the 50-tonner's armor. It seemed to be repaired from whatever damages Fred had inflicted upon it.

The medium 'Mech throttled up and turned a hard right to strafe her broad side. Randi backed up and glanced from the _Loki_ to the _Hellhound_.

"You're outnumbered. Just give up while you can," said Prewitt.

"Never did learn your lesson, did you?" Jen sneered.

Randi glanced out the side window of her cockpit to the van. "I will not let you kill another one of my friends. I will stop you," she murmured.

"What's that? I think I misheard you. It sounded like you said...you're going to stop me? Ha!" Jen laughed loudly and snapped Randi in torso with a PPC. "You couldn't stop me from taking this 'Mech or shooting your sibko buddy. You couldn't even stop me from getting into your house!"

Randi reeled to the side a bit as the bolt impacted her side and the HUD turned to a fuzzy mess. She fought the gravity and throttled up, narrowly missing a spray of C-STRKs from the _Hellhound_. Now angrier than ever, she turned swiftly and darted parallel to Jen's Loki, then rotated _Nyx's_ right gun and fired. The PPC blast barely caught Jen in the side and the sparking, streaming energy flaked off a sheet of charred ferro-fibrous. The 65-ton beast's right arm continued to drip bluish sparks into the mud, and while its pilot attempted to recover, Randi slammed down on the throttle and tapped her jumpjets. The burst of reactor exhaust was not for a full DFA, but a good, long jump to clear the mud and debris that slowed the heavy OmniMech. The huge, all-black _Mad Cat_ landed just meters away from its enemy and stabbed another PPC pointblank into the humanoid _Loki_.

By now, autocannon fire was grazing her armor, chewing at it like a rat, but Randi ignored all that. _'Everything makes sense now,'_ she thought, grilling Jen with machine gun fire. _'All along, Jen did everything she could to get those schematics, no matter who she had to backstab.'_ She narrowed her focus to better balance the weight of her 'Mech, and then slammed its paw-like foot hard into the lower leg of the _Loki_.

Another stream of C-STRKs ground into _Nyx's _back, ripping out the frail armor. Randi closed her fists tight around the joysticks and whipped around to the _Hellhound_. She towered over the squat design by several meters and used that to her advantage. Furious and completely drained of mercy, she unloaded her own C-STRKs into the top of the _Hound's_ chassis. It bowed under the force of the missiles as the warheads clawed through its armor.

"I'll give you once chance to leave or die, Prewitt!" she shouted as she hit the comm. "Jen didn't hesitate to kill the man she pretended to love. What makes you think you will get any more loyalty?"

Prewitt only answered with laser fire, melting of a solid ton of armor from the capsule-like torso of the _Mad Cat_. Randi shifted her weight to compensate for the loss and took a deliberate step forward.

The _Hellhound_ kept itself low, with its torso and guns pitched as far upward as possible to get a shot at the much taller heavy 'Mech, like a toy poodle deluded into thinking it was a rottweiler. Randi cantered up to it and tapped her jets. As the feet of her _Mad _Cat scraped against the side of the smaller 'Mech, she slammed on the jumpjets and pushed down her joysticks to focus the inertia. Prewitt struggled against the 75-ton bulldozer, but before he could slip away Randi launched another salvo of C-STRKs, knocking the _Hellhound_ on its side. The bird-legged 'Mech flailed as it landed in the mud, sending up a gooey splatter as it crashed. It tried to paw at the ground in hopes of getting up, but the slick earth gave it no traction.

Suddenly, twin bolts of electric-blue particles crisped into Randi's torso. A salvo of C-STRKs followed, and a few of the missiles chipped armor from the _Mad Cat's_ own boxy launchers. The _Loki_ was back in the fight.

Randi hit the comm. "Ned! Harrison!"

"We're outside the arena," replied Ned. "Listen, those 'Mechs are really making me nervous. You want to explain—"

"Watch that van! If it leaves, follow it and do _not_ let it out of your sight," Randi cut in.

"So...they've got Fred?"

"...Yes," she said slowly, biting her lip as she and Jen circled one another.

The _Loki's_ lasers sliced into her armor, but the 75-ton _Mad Cat_ held its ground. Randi had taken a good deal of damage from the tag-team attacks of her enemies, but Jen never had a chance to repair the damage she took in the games. There was no way the _Loki_ could survive now.

Randi hit the comm again. "Stand down, Jen! You cannot survive this fight."

"You're telling _me_ to surrender?"

"Yes. I do not want to kill you," said Randi. "I would much rather watch you rot in jail."

The other woman laughed. "I don't think so."

"Very well."

It was always said that Randi was somewhat ruthless in battle, even when she was still a part of the Wolf Clan. Tonight, she felt especially so. As the_ Loki _blistered her with its C-STRKs again, she carefully aligned her crosshairs over the center torso of the 'Mech. She clicked the trigger and stabbed it with an alpha strike, stopping the 65-tonner dead in its tracks as it fought the explosive forces that sought to consume it. The combination of missiles, laser, machine guns, and dual PPCs ripped through the ferro-fibrous and into the endosteel frame. Human-sized chunks of metal burst from the chassis as the fearsome _Loki_ was ripped apart from within by its own ammunition.

Randi thought she saw a small explosion from the head, and something round burst from the same place. It could have been an ejection pod, but as the thing flew clear of the ammunition explosion, the LRMs squirreling around in the air swan dived back at their target. One of them exploded above the _Loki_, most of them missed due to the too-close range and slammed into the ground; a few more peppered the husk of the dying 'Mech. As the _Loki _crashed to the ground, a bright light burnt from its interior.

The _Mad Cat_ turned as hard and tight a left as possible, and Randi slammed down hard on the jumpjets. The black Omni rocketed into the air on a plume of bluish reactor exhaust as the dead _Loki's_ fusion-powered heart burst. _Nyx_ barely cleared the blast, with little bits of shrapnel bouncing off its feet as it descended. The 75 tons of war machine hit the ground hard but solidly, its feet sinking into the sloppy mud.

"That is it..." she murmured as she pressed her back into the command couch against the pull of gravity, and righted _Nyx's_ torso.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly remembered the van. She turned her 'Mech around to find the vehicle and switched on the search light. Frantically, she trotted over the still smoking wreckage of the _Loki_ and pitched her 'Mech's torso downward to scan the ground. The litter trail of ferro-fibrous and myomer extended for several meters from the epicentre of the explosion. Chunks of metal had pock-marked the standing wall sections, and for a moment, she began to fear the worst. When she got to the spot where the van had been sitting, however, there was no wreckage of shrapnel and vehicle. There was nothing at all.

"Ned!" she cried, as she hit the comm. "The van! Where- where is it?!"

The radio crackled a little. "It's gone," Harrison replied. "But the driver shoved Fred out of the van before taking off. We've got him with us, now."

Randi breathed a deep sigh of relief and let go of the joysticks, leaning back against the command couch. _'Finally,'_ she thought, _'I did something right.'_


	15. Epilogue

Epilogue

As Randi sat in the waiting room of the hospital, she was filled with a sense of dread anxiety. What was the damage? Could it be treated? Could he pilot again? No matter the outcome, one emotion rushed to the surface as she turned over the week's events in her mind: gratitude.

_'Above everything else,'_ she thought, _'I'm just so glad he is alive.'_

A nurse's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Ms. Greene?" the woman asked.

Randi paused for a second, then nodded a little. No amount of time would ever make her comfortable in using that "surname".

"He's awake now. You can go in."

"Thank you," Randi replied. She stood and walked quickly to the door, then paused. A part of her didn't want to see him. After all, it was her fault he was in the hospital. In the end, she decided that if she was going to bolt, she might as well have the guts to let him know before she did so. She knocked on the frame of the door and leaned her head in.

At the sound of her knock, Fred turned his head and grinned. "Hey, there."

Randi walked in, rubbing her arm awkwardly. "You, uh... you look good. Well, considering—"

"Considering I got shot and tossed out of a moving vehicle?" He chuckled. "I feel a lot better than I look, though. The doctors were nice enough to write me about five prescriptions. I think I'm just a tad high, right now."

"The surgery, then. That went okay?"

"Yup." Fred pulled the collar of his shirt over and down, showing the stitches. "Not too bad, eh? Just this little scar here, and some general scrapes and bruis—" He interrupted himself with a sudden sneeze. "Ahem. Bruises," Fred twitched and wrinkled his nose a little, as he continued. "Maybe a little bit of a cold, too."

Randi chuckled a little and handed him a tissue. "Your shoulder will heal up then, yes?"

"They're letting me out tomorrow. Said my shoulder will be fine, with a little time. Then again, they could just be trying to get me out of here," he joked with a lopsided smile. Fred rubbed his chin and assumed a thoughtful look, probably determining that his now scruffy goatee needed a trim. "So, are you gonna tell me how you saved my toast, or not?"

"I... Well, I did not really—"

"Oh, come on. None of that modesty crap, okay, Randi? Besides, I'd like to hear a good story."

She smiled a little and retold the events, only occasionally faltering with the sequence. In speaking, she was surprised to recall everything that had occurred; it all seemed like a dream when it happened. Coming to the end of the tale, she paused, took a breath, and then looked back at Fred. "I am sure the battle ROM tells it better, but... uh, that's it."

He blinked a little. "You trashed my _Bushwhacker?!_"

Randi cowed back a little. "Well, um... yeah. Kind of." She looked away, a little nervous. "...But we did... get your _Hellhound_ back. Ned and Harrison went back for salvage after we dropped you off here. Prewitt was long gone."

Fred's agitation subsided instantly. "Oh, okay. All's well that ends well."

"What? That's it?"

"Sure. Right after you pay the bill for the _Bushwhacker_, the _Hellhound_, and all damage to the bloodpit where you had your little melée."

With a heavy sigh, Randi nodded. After the repair, component, and labor bills for the work to _Nyx_, she had just enough money to eat. "Yes, sir," she replied, looking very unenthusiastic. "Want me to write myself up for report, while I am at it?"

"No, no. I was just kidding. Maybe it wasn't as funny as I thought, though. Like I said, I'm a little loopy from the meds," he replied with a chuckle. "And...thanks for saving me. Are _you_ alright, though? Nothing broken?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"That's good. We might have to stay here for a bit to get everything back together. Honestly, though, I'd like to leave as much as you do."

Randi fell silent and bowed her head a little. "Well," she said after a moment, "I will make it a little easier for you. As soon as I get my bills paid, I will be out of your way."

"Aw, Randi, don't be like that," Fred said softly. "I need a MechWarrior like you in this outfit. Plus, you saved my life. I owe you one."

She shook her head. "No. You don't owe me anything. You saved me once, too," she said. "Besides, I am the one who got you into this mess in the first place. I am just... a trouble magnet."

"Bah, Prewitt's been after my head for awhile, now. He's probably going to be sore about this whole thing, too. Oh, well."

The ex-Clanner stood and paced a little. "No. This was not Prewitt's idea; it was Jen Sanders, the _Loki_ pilot. She was... She was the one who killed Maro."

"Your friend?" Fred sat up a little, but instantly regretted it, mumbling an "ow" as he leaned back. "I'm sorry..."

"It doesn't matter," Randi replied with a little bit of a laugh. It was quite contrary to what she felt. "Jen didn't make it out of the arena." A little bit of silence passed, and she looked around tentatively. "Well, if I am going to stay, I guess you ought to know what this whole fiasco was really about," she said, pulling the door shut.

Fred waved his hand dismissively. "Look, we already went over this..." His voice trailed off and his tan cheeks turned a little pinkish, as Randi turned around with her hand down the front of her shirt. She pulled out a small square-fold of paper and handed it to her CO while she sat down beside him. Fred took it, still blushing.

"I would not have looked there," he remarked, with an embarassed chuckle.

"Well, that was the point..."

The awkwardness soon vanished as Fred unfolded the paper and began to look over it. His eyes widened greatly and his eyebrows steadily made their way up towards his hairline. "This is...This is what they were after?" he replied, stunned. While he probably hadn't had much technician or scientific training, it wasn't difficult to determine just what the schematic design was, or its capabilities.

"Yes," said Randi solemnly. "That is Black Wolf."

Fred folded the plans back up quickly and returned them to Randi. "Sanders couldn't have been after these on her own. One person can't just swipe something like this without any help. Someone else must still be out there."

"I do not doubt it. I do not know who could've been working with her, besides Prewitt," she said, slipping the plans back down her shirt.

"Well, let's just try and get off this rock as soon as possible."

"Yeah," Randi said with a sigh. Kerensky, how she hated Solaris. "I had better go, now. You probably need to rest."

He chuckled a little as the woman stood to leave. "Hey, Randi?"

"Yes?"

"Uh..." Fred shook his head, as if he had changed his mind. "Be careful."

She nodded back. The two exchanged a brief wave, and then Randi walked out. She wondered a little what he was going to say, but then decided it wasn't important. She kept her promise to herself, and in the end, that was all that really mattered.

* * *

Author's notes: _Well, I've finally come to the end of _Tooth and Nail_. This story has been a ton of fun to write, especially with _Hellcat _on board for the project. He's been a huge help to me and brought a lot of different angles to the story with his character, _Fred Acosta. _And although this story is over, there's going to be plenty more to come. A third _BlackWolf_ story is in the works, and ought to show up by fall at the latest._

_I hope every one enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. A big thanks to _RougeBaron, Siba, Tremble Wolf, and Zmuh 11 _for the reviews. I love hearing from you all._


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